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ACROSS   THE    CAMPUS 


Across  the  Campus 

A  Story  of  College  Life 


By 
Caroline  M.  Fuller 


New  York 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
1899 


Copyright,  1899, 
BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


All  rights  reserved 


SSntonsitg 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


Bctu'cateti 


IN    ALL    HUMILITY 
TO 

"THE   FINEST   CLASS   ALIVE" 


Contents 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

I.   THE  WATCHERS  OVER  H/RLAND      ....  i 

II.    FRESHMEN  EXPERIENCES 17 

III.   THE  WEARING  OF  THE  GREEN 31 

IV.    A  RENEWED  ACQUAINTANCE 45 

V.    CHRISTINE  BECOMES  GREGARIOUS      ....  57 

VI.    OTHER  FESTIVITIES        71 

VII.     HOW   THEY    BECAME    SOPHOMORES        ....  84 

VIII.   A  SONG  AND  A  SORROW 98 

IX.   THE  BASKET- BALL  GAME 116 

X.    HAMMOCKS  AND  APPLE- BLOSSOMS     .     .     .     .  131 

XI.    "WHAT  IT  MEANS  TO  BE  FRIENDS"      .     .     .  145 

XII.   A  COLLEGE  SUNDAY 162 

XIII.    NUMBER  2  HADLEY 180 

XIV.    "PippA  PASSES" 204 

XV.   JUNIOR  USHERING 228 

XVI.   SENIOR  RESPONSIBILITIES 253 

XVII.     "IT   CAME   UPON    THE    MIDNIGHT   CLEAR"    .       .  276 

XVIII.   THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB  ....  299 

XIX.   IN  THE  HEART  OF  MARCH 321 

XX.   TRYING  FOR  DRAMATICS 346 

XXI.   THE  COMING  OF  THE  ROSES 376 

XXII.    "  THE  GLORIOUS  CLASS  OF  NINETY-FIVE  "  .     .  411 

XXIII.   THE  CROSSING  ENDED 428 


2072321 


Across  the   Campus 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  WATCHERS  OVER  HARLAND 

IT  was  a  hot  September  afternoon,  and  in  a 
pleasant  third-story  room  of  Mrs.  Hemp's  "  Board- 
ing-House for  College  Students,"  two  girls  were 
engaged  in  a  lively  discussion. 

They  had  arranged  both  beds  to  suit  one  of  them 
—  no  two  room-mates  ever  entertained  the  same  view 
with  regard  to  the  position  of  their  beds  —  and  had 
shifted  the  poor  lame  wash-stand  but  five  times,  al- 
though it  had  shed  a  castor  at  each  one  of  these  jour- 
neys, save  the  last,  and  would  gladly  have  contributed 
another,  had  it  not  become  reduced  in  circumstances. 
At  present  the  intensity  of  their  discussion  was  in- 
creased by  the  fact  that  Ruth  had  just  upset  a  box  of 
tacks,  and  Christine  had  stepped  on  them. 

"  That  was  a  cowardly  onslaught !  "  cried  the  vic- 
tim, spinning  around  on  one  unhappy  toe.  "  There 
is  n't  a  thing  about  college  that  I  like  so  far,  although 
it  doesn't  begin  till  to-morrow;  and  I  had  on  my 
thin  slippers  too  !  " 

"  Sit  down  on  my  bed,  and  pick  the  tacks  out 
of  the  soles,  please,  Chris,"  was  the  unsympathetic 
answer.  "  I  must  have  them  to  put  up  these 
photographs  with." 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Christine  followed  the  suggestion,  but  meanwhile 
relieved  her  feelings  by  reviling  the  dimensions  of 
the  room. 

"We  have  a  beautiful  view,"  said  Ruth,  looking 
out  at  the  far-away  river,  and  the  blue  hills  which  lay 
dreamy  and  warm  in  the  afternoon  sunshine. 

"  Yes,  we  can  keep  a  view,  because  it 's  out  of 
doors,"  said  Christine,  stubbornly;  "we  may  have  to 
put  the  piano  lamp  out  there  too.  Possibly  we  shall 
be  tempted  to  move  out  ourselves.  Just  look  at  that 
tack  on  the  floor ;  what  a  shadow  it  casts !  " 

"  Silly  girl,"  said  Ruth,  amiably,  "  where  do  you 
think  I  had  better  hang  '  Madame  Le  Brun  etsa  Fille,' 
—  between  the  two  windows?" 

"  Do  not  venture  to  address  me,"  was  the  stern 
retort ;  "  this  is  the  thirty-first  that  I  have  removed 
from  the  toe  alone !  " 

Ruth  moved  about  the  room  in  obedient  silence, 
unpacking  the  teacups  from  a  "  pocket-edition  "  bath- 
tub, dusting  books,  and  placing  them  according  to 
size  in  a  genial  bookcase  of  sunny  brown,  along  the 
middle  ledge  of  which  was  printed  in  chalk,  "  Les 
hommes  sont  mechants,  mais  leurs  livres  sont  bons." 

"  I  don't  see  why  we  could  n't  get  on  the  campus 
this  year,  anyhow,"  said  Christine,  dismally.  "  My 
father 's  a  Senator ;  and,  besides,  he  has  a  white 
beard.  I  don't  see  how  the  Registrar  dared  tell  a 
man  with  a  white  beard  that  there  was  n't  room  for 
his  daughter  on  the  campus." 

"  Christine,  you  're  too  ridiculous,"  laughed  Ruth ; 
"  you  know  that  people  have  to  apply  months  and 
sometimes  years  beforehand  to  get  rooms  on  the 
campus.  Now,  do  you  happen  to  remember  where 


THE  WATCHERS  OVER  HARLAND 

you  put  the  picture  wire,  and  those  hooks  that  we 
bought  this  morning?  " 

"  Nothing  in  this  world  ever  happens,"  said  Chris- 
tine, solemnly.  "If  I  remembered  at  all,  it  would  be 
the  result  of  deliberate  forethought." 

Ruth  searched  patiently  through  the  miscellaneous 
heap  of  things  which  adorned  the  floor,  and  finally 
found  the  wire  in  a  shoe-bag. 

"  I  put  it  there  so  that  we  could  find  it  easily," 
explained  Christine,  coming  to  the  rescue.  "  Now, 
Ruth,  listen  to  what  I  say,  for  I  'm  obliged  to  be 
firm.  You  are  not  going  to  hang  these  pictures,  and 
neither  am  I.  How  are  they  going  to  be  hung?  I 
shall  don  my  new  shoes,  which  are  too  tight  about 
the  waist,  sally  forth,  and  engage  an  African  for  the 
purpose." 

"  Engage  a  man  for  a  little  thing  like  this?  Why, 
Chris,  how  perfectly  absurd  !  You  forget  that  I  'm 
used  to  doing  everything  for  myself." 

"  Down  in  the  shop  of  Phipps,  the  storage  man," 
said  Christine,  dropping  her  voice  to  a  whisper,  "is 
a  dark  accomplice,  and  him  will  I  bring  and  lay  at 
the  feet  of  my  lady  dear." 

"  Oh,  Chris !  "  protested  Ruth,  in  horror,  "  please 
don't  bring  any  miscellaneous  kind  of  a  creature  up 
here  without  asking  Mrs.  Hemp  if  it's  all  right!" 

"  It  is  all  right,"  said  Christine,  beginning  to  button 
her  boots,  "  and  in  addition  to  its  other  charms,  it 
has  a  naturally  curly  nose." 

"Oh  dear,"  said  Ruth,  disconsolately,  "I  wish 
your  father  had  n't  gone  back  to  Burlington,  or 
that  your  mother  was  here  to  settle  you." 

"  My  child,  you  speak  as  if  I  were  a  pot  of  ob- 

3 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

streperous  coffee,  and  my  mother  a  well-meaning 
but  absent  egg;  and  such  sentiments  are  very,  very 
wrong.  Now  put  on  your  hat  and  come." 

But  Ruth  still  hesitated.  "  What  is  that  noise  out 
in  the  hall?"  she  said,  going  to  the  door.  "Oh, 
Chris,  I  believe  Miss  Carey's  trunks  have  come  at 
last,  and  she  's  gone  down  town.  What  shall  we  do 
about  them?" 

Christine  listened,  and  heard  an  irregular  heaving 
and  bumping  upon  the  stairs,  accompanied  by  a  ter- 
rific struggling,  and  the  sound  of  paint  which  is  being 
gently  but  firmly  removed  from  the  boards  where  it 
was  wont  to  linger. 

"Do?"  she  said  coolly;  "why,  nothing.  What 
should  we  do?" 

But  Ruth  was  already  out  in  the  hall,  showing  the 
men  Miss  Carey's  room,  and  paying  the  express 
charges  herself,  —  a  proceeding  to  which  Christine 
strongly  objected. 

""'  You  see,  it  will  cause  that  girl  to  have  tender 
associations  connected  with  us,"  she  began,  and  then, 
catching  sight  of  the  negro  who  accompanied  the 
expressman,  she  joyfully  exclaimed,  "  By  my  life, 
'tis  the  accomplice  himself,  and  come  hither  in  the 
nick  of  time  !  Enter,  African,  and  hang  my  pictures." 

The  negro  boy  grinned,  and  promptly  obeyed;  the 
pictures  were  soon  hung,  and  the  bureau  shifted  into 
a  new  position. 

"  I  liked  it  very  well  as  it  was,"  explained  Christine ; 
"  but  you  see  it  is  well  to  get  all  such  heavy  work 
done  while  we  have  a  man  here." 

The  girls  put  the  finishing  touches  to  the  room,  and 
sat  down  to  admire  their  work ;  while  the  African,  who 

4 


THE  WATCHERS  OVER  HARLAND 

had  been  meekly  standing  upon  the  radiator,  begged 
leave  to  descend,  and  departed  with  his  fifty  cents. 

"  It  does  look  pretty  well,  does  n't  it?  "  said  Ruth, 
with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction;  and  so  it  did.  The 
screen  and  the  little  tea-table  were  of  white  wood, 
burned  in  sepia-like  designs ;  and  several  cheerful 
water-colors  gave  an  atmosphere  of  life  to  the  room. 
There  were  a  few  cream-colored  bas-reliefs,  a  fine  etch- 
ing or  two,  and  in  one  corner  stood  an  exquisite 
bronze  statuette  of  the  Pompeian  "  Narcissus."  The 
piano  lamp  gave  promise  of  soft  red  shadows  when 
evening  should  come ;  the  little  teakettle  stood  upon 
a  doily  embroidered  in  white  and  purple  violets,  while 
a  few  dainty  teacups,  hand  painted  with  violets,  were 
grouped  around  it.  The  Yale  and  Harvard  flags 
were  peacefully  crossed  above  the  bookcase;  for 
Christine  had  a  brother  at  Harvard  now,  and  an  older 
one  had  graduated  in  the  class  of  '89.  The  Yale  flag 
was  in  honor  of  Ruth's  father,  who  had  been  a  famous 
"  Bones  "  man  in  his  day,  and  who  still  disappeared 
periodically  to  attend  certain  dinners  and  reunions. 

"Yes,  it  looks  as  well  as  it  ever  will,"  admitted 
Christine,  "  and  now  let's  go  down  town  and  get  an 
ice-cream  soda." 

The  girls  started  out,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  hill 
they  met  Miss  Carey,  accompanied  by  a  friend. 

"  Allow  me  to  present  a  stray  classmate,  surnamed 
Reade,"  she  said  with  a  flourish.  "  I  can't  vouch  for 
her  ancestry  or  private  character,  but  she  's  treated 
me  to  an  ice-cream  soda,  and  I  'm  her  friend  for  life. 
Hurrah  !  " 

Miss  Carey  was  a  lively  Kentucky  girl,  with  Irish 
tendencies,  and  an  irresistible  twinkle  in  her  eyes. 

5 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  It  was  awfully  good  of  you  to  see  about  my 
trunks,  Miss  Burritt,"  she  said,  when  Ruth  had  in- 
formed her  of  their  arrival,  "  and  I  reckon  that  one  of 
them  contains  something  to  reward  you  for  this  cheer- 
ful self-sacrifice.  Drop  into  my  room  after  supper 
to-night,  and  you  '11  find  me  the  solid  rock  in  an  acid 
world.  Come  along,  Miss  Reade.  Ladies,  I  bid  you 
a  fond  good-afternoon." 

"  What  an  abominable  girl !  "  said  Christine  cheer- 
fully, as  they  pursued  their  way.  "  I  wonder  if  they  're 
all  going  to  be  like  that." 

"  No,  I  don't  believe  so,"  said  Ruth ;  "  and  besides, 
I  rather  like  her,  in  spite  of  her  funny  ways.  I  think 
she  's  bright." 

"  She 's  gregarious,"  said  Christine,  gloomily. 
"  They  're  all  gregarious ;  but  I  don't  intend  to 
consort  with  them." 

Christine  had  always  done  exactly  what  she  liked, 
had  everything  that  she  wanted,  and  had  come  to 
college  merely  to  escape  something  that  she  did  not 
want,  which  was  "  society." 

"  Oh,  Christie,  I  was  looking  forward  so  much  to 
having  you  come  out  in  Washington  when  you  were 
eighteen !  "  said  her  pretty  little  mother  with  a  sigh, 
when  the  plan  was  first  proposed. 

"  But,  mamma,  I  don't  want  to  come  out,  and  be 
turned  loose  to  graze  in  society  like  any  cow,"  was 
the  discouraging  reply.  "  If  ever  I  am  out,  it  will  be 
because  I  was  shot  out,  not  because  I  came;"  and 
Mrs.  Arnold  looked  deeply  grieved. 

But  the  Senator  and  his  boys  held  a  solemn  con- 
clave in  private,  decided  that  Christine  "  had  a  head 
on  her,"  and  should  go  to  college  if  she  liked.  So 

6 


THE  WATCHERS  OVER  HARLAND 

Mrs.  Arnold  gave  her  consent,  provided  that  Ruth, 
Christine's  best  friend,  would  go  with  her,  and  there 
was  some  difficulty  about  sparing  Ruth,  because  her 
mother  was  delicate,  and  there  were  younger  chil- 
dren ;  but  finally  Dr.  Burritt  yielded  to  supplication, 
and  the  two  girls  finished  their  college  preparation 
together. 

"  The  Alma  Mater  is  n't  at  all  imposing  in  appear- 
ance, is  it?"  said  Christine,  as  they  walked  down  Elm 
Street,  under  the  shadow  of  the  stately  trees,  which 
sent  down  sunny  flickerings  of  light  and  seemed  to 
be  saying,  "  We,  at  least,  are  as  imposing  as  one 
could  wish." 

"  No,  it  is  n't  unusual  in  any  way,"  said  Ruth, 
simply,  "  but  I  think  I  am  going  to  love  it." 

Every  now  and  then  the  girls  would  meet  an 
anxious  mother,  accompanied  by  a  timid  Freshman, 
who  regarded  them  with  shy  eagerness  as  they 
passed. 

"  Gregarious  !  "  said  Christine,  as  she  solemnly  sur- 
veyed each  new  specimen,  "hopelessly  gregarious!" 

Ruth  did  not  answer,  for,  to  tell  the  truth,  she  was 
not  quite  sure  what  "  gregarious  "  meant,  and  always 
confused  it  with  "  amphibious." 

When  they  reached  Henley's  drugstore,  they  found 
a  number  of  girls  eating  ices  around  the  cool  marble 
counter,  within  reach  of  the  wind  which  came  from 
a  revolving  fan  overhead. 

"  This  is  our  first  ice  at  college,  Christie,"  said 
Ruth,  with  enthusiasm ;  "  now,  what  had  we  better 
take?  What  have  you  that  is  good?"  she  asked, 
turning  to  the  clerk. 

A  girl  who  was  sitting  near  looked  up  pleasantly, 
7 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

and  said :  "  If  you  have  just  come  to  South  Har- 
land,  you  really  ought  to  try  a  strawberry  ice. 
Henley  is  famous  for  his  strawberry  ices,  and  every- 
body takes  them." 

Christine  stepped  forward  with  dignity.  "  You 
will  give  us  two  chocolate  ice-cream  sodas,  if  you 
please,"  she  said  distinctly,  and  the  pretty  Junior 
subsided  with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"  I  don't  think  you  were  quite  polite  to  her,"  said 
Ruth,  as  they  left  the  store ;  "  she  had  on  a  sweet  hat, 
and  she  looked  like  a  nice  girl." 

"  It  is  very  hypocritical  to  pretend  to  like  people 
when  you  don't,"  objected  Christine. 

"  But  you  don't  know  anything  about  her," 
answered  Ruth  impatiently,  and  had  the  wisdom  to 
add  nothing  more ;  for  was  she  not  proud  to  have  it 
said  at  home  that  she  could  "  get  along  with  Christine 
better  than  any  one  else  "  ? 

It  is  to  be  observed  that  two  people  are  very  likely 
to  get  along  well  together,  when  one  of  them  has  her 
own  way  in  everything !  And  while  Christine  was  a 
gifted,  tempestuous  young  person,  whose  character 
was  often  its  own  refutation,  Ruth  was  one  of  those 
delightful  people  who  have  no  talents  themselves,  but 
who  find  ample  employment  in  repairing  the  mischief 
made  by  those  who  have. 

"  We  must  lay  in  a  store  of  provisions  in  case  we 
have  callers,"  Ruth  said,  as  they  passed  a  grocery 
store ;  so  they  stopped  and  invested  in  a  bottle  of 
Crosse  &  Blackwell  pickles,  some  Dundee  strawberry 
jam,  a  tin  of  biscuits,  and  a  bottle  of  Queen  olives. 

"  Now  I  begin  to  feel  settled,"  she  added  gleefully, 
as  they  turned  towards  home.  "  But  we  might  just 

8 


THE  WATCHERS  OVER  HARLAND 

as  well  have  carried  up  the  things  ourselves.  They 
were  n't  at  all  heavy." 

"  What !  go  along  a  public  thoroughfare,  clasping 
a  load  of  groceries  ?  "  said  Christine,  with  superiority. 
"  I  never  did  such  a  thing  in  my  life." 

When  they  reached  the  house  the  supper-bell  was 
ringing,  and  they  filed  into  the  dining-room,  accom- 
panied by  several  other  Freshmen  who  looked  too 
frightened  to  speak,  although  they  may  have  been 
merely  suffering  from  reserve.  It  was  a  very  silent 
meal,  broken  only  by  the  chatter  of  several  "  old 
girls  "  who  sat  together,  and  by  the  time-worn  re- 
marks of  Mrs.  Hemp,  who  presided  at  one  end  of  the 
table.  Christine  was  put  beside  a  bright-looking 
Sophomore,  who  might  have  been  interesting,  but 
received  no  encouragement.  Kathleen  Carey  came 
in  late,  and  was  seated  between  two  classmates  whose 
silence  effectually  quenched  her.  Ruth,  however, 
took  an  interest  in  all  these  new  companions,  and 
devoted  herself  to  her  little  neighbor,  who  was  a 
sweet  child  with  large  brown  eyes,  and  a  homesick 
look  that  went  to  one's  heart. 

After  supper  the  girls  collected  on  the  back  piazza 
to  look  at  the  mountains,  which  were  still  more  beau- 
tiful in  their  evening  glow ;  and  Ruth's  little  neighbor 
said,  "They  are  very,  very  lovely  and  comforting, 
are  n't  they  ?  I  feel  as  if  they  would  be  my 
friends." 

"  They  will  help  us  to  be  good,"  answered  Ruth, 
softly.  "  How  nice  it  is  that  there  are  two  of  them ! 
I  believe  that  even  a  mountain  would  be  lonely  some- 
times, if  it  had  no  friend." 

The  hand  of  the  small  girl  trembled  a  moment  in 

9 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

hers,  and  Ruth  said :  "  Come  to  the  railing,  and  let 's 
talk  about  them  a  little  while.  There,  jump  up  here, 
and  I  '11  put  my  arm  around  you  so  that  you  can't  fall 
off.  What  do  they  remind  you  of — those  great 
mountains?  They  seem  to  me  like  sentinels  pacing 
the  river  bank,  and  although  they  have  stopped  for  a 
minute  now,  I  am  sure  that  they  will  march  on  again 
to-night  after  we  are  all  asleep." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  believe  that  they  would  leave  us,"  said 
the  small  girl,  wistfully;  "to  me  they  are  not  like  sen- 
tinels, but  guardian  angels.  I  think,"  she  added,  half 
to  herself,  "  that  they  are  watching  over  Harland  !  " 

"Watchmen  are  they?"  asked  Kathleen  Carey, 
who  had  come  up  behind  her.  "  Well,  look  out  that 
they  don't  spring  a  rattle  on  you  some  day.  That's 
Rattlesnake  Ledge  up  there  on  Mt.  Gwynn,  where 
Holmes  sat  when  he  wrote  '  Elsie  Venner.'  " 

"Oh,  is  that  true?"  asked  some  of  the  girls  in 
surprise,  and  a  friendly  Sophomore  said,  — 

"  I  doubt  if  Holmes  wrote  his  book"  under  the  per- 
sonal supervision  of  the  rattlers,  but  that  is  really 
supposed  to  be  the  Rattlesnake  Ledge  of  '  Elsie 
Venner.'  The  whole  country  around  here  is  full  of 
interesting  associations.  This  house,  for  instance, 
used  to  be  a  school  kept  by  Bancroft  the  historian, 
and  afterwards,  when  it  was  a  hotel,  Jenny  Lind 
stopped  here  for  some  time.  We  often  think  that  her 
spirit  comes  back  to  tip  over  our  water-pitchers." 

"  Oh,  how  interesting!  "  said  the  girls.  "Do  you 
know  of  any  more  associations?" 

"J.  G.  Holland's  story  of  '  Katrina '  was  located  in 
old  Hadley,"  continued  Miss  Robinson,  "  and  there 
is  a  tree  in  our  own  campus  that  was  planted  by  him 

10 


THE  WATCHERS  OVER  HARLAND 

when  he  was  here  as  a  boy.  It  used  to  be  called 
'  Jamie's  tree/  but  now  everybody  has  forgotten 
which  one  it  is." 

"  Why,  I  thought  that  the  college  was  n't  founded 
at  that  time,"  said  one  of  the  Freshmen,  looking 
puzzled. 

"  And  so  it  was  n't,  but  Holland  used  to  work  for 
Judge  Storey  when  the  whole  campus  was  nothing 
but  Judge  Storey's  back  yard.  Then,  when  the  col- 
lege was  started,  this  house  was  bought  for  a 
dormitory,  and  now  presides  like  a  white-haired 
grandmamma  over  its  many  descendants." 

Kathleen  Carey  had  dashed  into  the  hall,  and  now 
returned  with  a  copy  of  the  "  South  Harland 
Gazette,"  which  she  waved  triumphantly  in  the  air. 

"  Friends  and  fellow-classmates,  listen  to  this !  " 
she  proclaimed.  "  '  Largest  number  of  Freshmen  on 
record  !  The  town  of  South  Harland  opens  its  arms 
to  an  entering  class  of  two  hundred  and  sixty-four ! 
Difficulty  about  finding  accommodations  for  all,  in 
the  city  limits  !  The  following  list  of  names  has  been 
obtained  from  the  College  Registrar,  by  Our  Special 
Correspondent ! '  Now,  girls,  hold  up  your  hands  as 
your  names  are  called."  And  a  movement  of  interest 
went  through  the  little  group. 

"'Adams,  Beatrice  Benedict,  Richmond,  Va,' nice 
literary  name,  warranted  straight  from  '  Much  Ado 
about  Nothing.'  Any  one  claim  it?  Going,  going, 
gone  !  '  Adams,  Lydia  Makepeace,  West  Harmony, 
Maine.  Adams,  Pomona  Bufkins,  Tombstone,  Ari- 
zona. Allen,  Amethyst  Eliza,  Holyoke,  Mass.'  " 

A  blushing  Freshman  raised  her  hand,  and  speedily 
put  it  down  again,  hoping  that  no  one  had  noticed  it. 

ii 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Welcome  to  our  midst,  Miss  Allen,"  said  Kath- 
leen, with  a  bow;  "make  ready  to  welcome  me  to 
your  midst  later  on.  '  Appleyard,  Araminta  Daisy, 
Squaw  Hunk,  Wy.  Arnold,  Christine,  Burlington, 
la.' " 

"  Christie,  how  can  you  be  so  stiff? "  whispered 
Ruth,  giving  her  room-mate  a  shake,  and  adding 
indignantly,  "  This  is  Miss  Arnold,  girls,  although 
perhaps  you  knew  it  before." 

"  Ah !  "  said  the  Sophomore  who  had  sat  beside 
Christine  at  the  table ;  "  you  must  be  the  daughter  of 
Senator  Arnold,  then,  are  n't  you?  Mrs.  Hemp  said 
one  was  to  be  here." 

"  I  am  Senator  Arnold's  only  daughter,"  said 
Christine,  with  dignity,  and  Miss  Gilbert  was  auda- 
cious enough  to  laugh. 

"  I  'm  sure  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  said,  "  for 
intimating  that  you  might  have  a  sister;  and  yet 
many  nice  people  do  have  sisters,  you  know,  and  are 
still  respected  by  their  friends." 

From  that  moment  Christine  condemned  Maude 
Gilbert  as  a  superfluous  member  of  society. 

"  There  has  been  a  digression  !  "  said  Kathleen, 
peering  over  the  top  of  the  paper.  "  Parties  will 
please  return  to  business." 

The  next  person  who  responded  to  the  roll-call 
was  Ruth  Burritt,  and  then  came  Miss  Carey  herself, 
who  said  that,  as  circumstances  prevented  her  from 
raising  her  hand,  she  would  rely  upon  the  testimony 
of  all  to  prove  that  she  was  present. 

"  '  Deland,  Clare  Edmonds,  Hillside,  N.  Y.,'  "  was 
read  ;  and  the  little  brown-eyed  girl  said  shyly,  "  I  'm 
that  one." 

12 


THE  WATCHERS  OVER  HARLAND 

The  last  name  that  found  an  owner  on  the  back 
piazza,  belonged  to  Philippa  Fairbank,  of  Kalama- 
zoo,  Mich.,  a  serious  young  person  who  looked  (to 
quote  one  of  the  Seniors)  as  if  she  would  go  in 
for  Heathen  Missionary  Work,  and  organize  a  new 
Needlework  Guild. 

"  Now  for  a  choice  resume,"  said  Kathleen,  irrev- 
erently. " '  Elizabeth  French  Dane,  Walla  Walla, 
Wash.'  What  a  plaster  of  nationalities  !  '  Edith  Hor- 
ton  Standish,  Boston,  Mass.'  Born  in  Beacon  Street, 
died  —  no  —  came  over  in  the  '  Mayflower.'  '  Katie 
Maria  Dervish  '  —  Hurrah  !  named  for  Grandma —  " 

"  Clare  Edmonds  Deland,"  from  Hillside,  N.  Y., 
stole  away  very  quietly,  and  went  upstairs  to  her 
room,  where  she  hunted  through  her  hand-satchel 
for  another  handkerchief,  and  sat  down  by  the  open 
window.  She  had  taken  her  mother  to  the  train  that 
afternoon,  —  a  slender,  brown-eyed  little  mother,  who 
did  not  look  much  older  than  Clare  herself,  —  and 
the  two  had  never  been  separated  before.  They  had 
tried  to  tell  funny  stories  and  be  cheerful  when  the 
time  for  parting  came,  but  it  was  hard  work,  and  each 
had  cried  when  the  other  was  out  of  sight. 

Clare  sat  looking  sorrowfully  at  her  new  trunk, 
which  seemed  in  some  mysterious  way  to  be  respon- 
sible for  all  the  mischief.  They  had  been  such  a 
happy  little  family  at  home,  just  mother  and  Ethel 
and  Clare,  and  because  there  were  so  few  of  them,  they 
had  always  felt  like  loving  each  other  a  great  deal. 

"  Perhaps  I  'd  better  unpack  my  trunk,"  she 
thought  tremulously,  "  and  then  maybe  I  won't 
think  about  what  mamma  and  Ethel  are  doing  this 
evening." 

13 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Mrs.  Deland  had  taken  out  all  the  dresses  that 
would  crush  easily,  and  hung  them  up  in  the  closet; 
but  she  thought  that  it  might  amuse  and  divert  Clare 
to  unpack  the  rest  of  her  trunk  when  she  was  alone. 

She  sat  down  on  the  floor  now,  and  began  to  lay 
the  carefully  folded  underclothes  in  a  lower  bureau 
drawer.  She  remembered  so  well  the  day  when  her 
mother  had  marked  them,  printing  the  letters  very 
carefully  in  indelible  ink,  while  Ethel  stood  by  with 
a  hot  iron  to  press  the  name  into  each  little  garment 
as  it  was  ready.  Clare  had  not  been  allowed  to  assist 
in  any  of  the  preparations,  not  even  to  sew  the 
tapes  on  the  stockings,  and  it  had  all  been  great  fun ; 
but  now,  as  each  familiar  thing  came  out  of  the  trunk, 
it  seemed  to  bring  a  fresh  heart-ache  with  it.  She 
felt  quite  comforted  on  finding  the  little  red  clock, 
which  ticked  sociably  away,  inside  a  flannel  petticoat 
and  did  not  seem  to  mind  coming  to  college  a  bit. 
But  when  she  took  out  other  home-connected  things, 
like  her  card-case,  with  the  three  birds  on  it,  and 
the  china  dog  that  had  stood  on  her  table  for  so 
many  years,  they  had  a  homesick  and  out-of-place 
look  that  made  her  feel  more  desolate  than  ever. 
The  climax  of  woe  was  reached  when  she  discovered 
a  beautiful  box  of  molasses  candy,  which  Ethel  had 
made  as  a  surprise  and  tucked  into  the  trunk  at  the 
last  minute. 

"  Oh,  how  dear  in  them,  how  dear !  "  said  Clare, 
and  two  sudden  tears  fell  down  upon  the  cover  of  the 
box,  which  was  a  second-hand  Huyler  box,  tied  up 
with  blue  ribbon ;  a  third  tear  had  lodged  in  the 
dimple  of  her  chin,  but  she  did  not  know  it. 

"  I  think  I  will  take  those  girls  some  of  my  candy," 
14 


THE  WATCHERS  OVER  HARLAND 

she  thought,  "  because  mamma  says  that  when  you 
are  very,  very  unhappy  you  must  always  try  to  do 
something  nice  for  somebody  else,  and  then  you  for- 
get how  unhappy  you  are." 

She  took  the  box,  and  tapped  gently  on  Ruth's 
door,  feeling  sure  that  Ruth  would  accept  the  little 
gift  as  it  was  meant,  and  perhaps  say  something  kind, 
to  make  her  feel  less  lonely. 

"  Come  in,"  called  somebody ;  and  Clare  found 
Christine  reading  alone,  with  the  red  glow  of  the 
lamp  on  her  face  and  hair. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  faltered,  "  but  I  thought 
that  you  —  and  Miss  Burritt,  and  you  both,  you 
know,  might  like  some  candy.  My  sister  made  it, 
and  put  it  in  my  trunk  for  a  surprise." 

Christine  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  and  looked  at 
the  small  intruder  with  a  decidedly  bored  expression. 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  she  said  stiffly,  "  but  we  are 
fairly  overwhelmed  with  candy  at  present.  Miss 
Carey  has  just  been  in  to  get  my  room-mate,  and 
has  promised  us  a  pound  of  Huyler's  at  least.  You 
had  much  better  eat  yours  yourself." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Clare,  the  tears  springing  to 
her  eyes ;  and  having  said  "  good-night,"  she  hastily 
slipped  back  to  her  own  little  room,  thinking  that 
"  I  am  sorry "  was  not  at  all  an  appropriate  thing 
to  say. 

"  But  I  am  so  afraid  of  that  tall  girl  with  the  flash- 
ing eyes,"  she  thought.  "  I  know  that  she  will  never 
like  me,  and  I  shall  be  afraid  to  go  into  their  room 
again.  Oh,  mamma,  mamma,  I  wish  you  were 
here !  "  and  Clare  threw  herself  down  on  the  bed, 
to  wrestle  with  that  first  great  misery  of  homesick- 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

ness,  which  we  all  find  hard  to  bear  even  when  we 
are  more  than  seventeen  years  old. 

Later  in  the  evening  came  another  surprise,  for, 
pinned  to  the  sleeve  of  her  new  pink  wrapper,  was  a 
little  note  that  had  been  written  by  somebody  else 
who  was  lonely  to-night,  somebody  who  had  sent 
her  baby  away  from  her  because  she  thought  that  it 
was  right. 

MY  OWN  DARLING  CHILD,  —  When  you  find  this,  I  am 
afraid  that  you  will  be  wanting  me  very  much,  and  not 
more,  my  dearest,  than  I  shall  be  wanting  you.  But  we 
can  never  be  really  separated,  you  know,  while  we  think  of 
each  other.  And  if  I  believe  you  are  happy,  you  know  that 
I  shall  be  very  happy  too. 

Here  there  was  a  slight  disturbance  in  the  ink,  and 
then  came :  — 

Good- night,  my  own  brave  little  Clare. 

It  was  not  easy  for  Clare  to  be  brave  after  she  had 
read  this,  and  she  lay  awake  for  a  long  time,  wonder- 
ing about  many  things.  A  bar  of  moonlight  crept  in 
through  the  blinds,  and  she  thought  of  the  gleaming 
river,  and  of  her  friends  the  mountains,  that  were 
watching  through  the  night.  And  then  she  fell 
asleep,  with  her  hand  on  the  dear  note,  and  the 
tears  on  her  lashes,  like  a  child  that  is  lost  and  far 
from  home. 


16 


CHAPTER   II 

FRESHMAN   EXPERIENCES 

WHEN  the  rising-bell  rang  the  next  morning,  Clare 
had  been  standing  by  her  window  for  several  minutes, 
looking  out  at  the  mountains.  "  They  are  like  great 
beautiful  birds,  with  wings  of  blue  and  gold,"  she 
thought,  "  and  perhaps  some  day,  if  I  am  very  good, 
I  shall  hear  their  song." 

Before  she  was  ready,  Ruth  Burritt  knocked  at  the 
door  to  see  if  she  would  like  to  walk  down  to  chapel 
with  them,  and  Clare  was  very  glad  to  accept  the 
invitation.  They  started  out  after  breakfast,  chap- 
eroned by  Maude  Gilbert,  who  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  had  persuaded  them  not  to  wear  gloves. 

"  Every  one  will  know  you  are  Freshmen,  if  you 
do,"  she  said,  "  and  I  am  very  much  afraid  that  they 
will  smile." 

Christine  had  put  gloves  in  her  pocket  before 
coming  downstairs,  but  having  no  desire  to  be  smiled 
at,  she  took  pains  to  mention  that  very  few  people 
would  think  of  wearing  gloves  to  college  on  such  a 
hot  day. 

As  the  girls  walked  down  Elm  Street,  the  chapel 
bell  was  ringing  at  regular  intervals,  and  drew  near 
like  a  welcoming  hand  stretched  out  to  meet  them. 

"  I  'm  a  little  afraid,"  said  Clare,  keeping  close  to 
Ruth  as  they  entered  the  side  door. 

17 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

"  What  on  earth  is  there  to  be  afraid  of?  "  asked 
Christine,  turning  upon  her  with  such  scorn  that  the 
child  shrank  back  in  dismay.  The  broad  stairway 
leading  to  the  chapel  was  thronged  with  girls,  and 
there  was  much  hubbub  of  enthusiastic  greeting  and 
joyous  laughter. 

"  I  wonder  if  any  one  will  ever  love  me  as  much 
as  that  girl  in  the  pink  waist  loves  that  one  in  the 
brown  skirt,"  thought  Clare  wistfully,  as  two  beam- 
ing Sophomores  toiled  up  the  steps  in  front  of  her, 
holding  each  other's  hands,  and  looking  happily 
oblivious  of  surroundings. 

"  Oh,  it  is  so  good  to  see  you  again !  "  Clare 
heard  one  of  them  exclaim;  and  her  companion 
responded  with  an  impulsive  hug  that  caused  Chris- 
tine to  tread  upon  a  member  of  the  Faculty  who  was 
directly  behind  her. 

"  Such  abominable  sentimentality !  "  grumbled 
Chris,  when  she  had  duly  apologized  and  inquired 
into  the  condition  of  the  Faculty's  toe. 

At  the  head  of  the  stairs  was  a  large  alcove, 
containing  a  bronze  statue  of  St.  George  and  the 
Dragon,  which  was  at  present  adorned  with  several 
hats  —  one  particularly  jaunty  sailor  reposing  upon 
the  head  of  the  saint  himself.  The  sound  of  the 
organ  stole  out  from  the  chapel,  and  wound  about 
through  the  laughing,  talking  crowd. 

"  You  can  sit  anywhere  you  like,  this  morning," 
said  Maude  Gilbert,  as  she  hurried  her  party  down 
the  middle  aisle,  "  but  to-morrow  we  shall  be  divided 
according  to  classes." 

"  How  much  do  I  have  to  pay  for  my  seat?  "  asked 
Ruth,  in  a  stage  whisper  as  they  took  their  places. 

18 


FRESHMAN   EXPERIENCES 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Miss  Gilbert,  with  a  smoth- 
ered explosion  of  laughter.  "  Here  's  the  hymn-book, 
Miss  Burritt,  Number  294,  in  the  '  Laudes  Domini,' 
—  you  can  see  the  number  up  there  by  the  organ." 

Clare  sat  between  Ruth  and  a  strange  Freshman 
whose  face  attracted  her  attention  at  once.  This 
girl  was  very  fair,  with  regular  features  and  black 
hair  that  contrasted  strangely  with  her  delicate  color- 
ing. But  it  was  not  the  black  hair  that  creeps  and 
coils ;  it  was  the  hair  that  fluffs  and  blows,  and  it  had 
something  in  common  with  her  eyes,  which  were  of 
the  deep  dark  blue  that  often  withdraw  into  their 
own  shadows,  and  leave  one  to  wonder  what  the 
owner  is  thinking  about. 

Clare  could  not  help  looking  at  her,  and  said  to 
herself:  "  She  is  the  most  beautiful  girl  that  I  ever 
saw." 

Meanwhile  Christine  was  saying  to  Ruth,  "  They  're 
all  crying,  every  one  of  'em,  and  if  they  don't  cry 
themselves  they  get  some  mother  or  aunt  to  do  it  for 
them,  so  it 's  all  the  same.  I  believe  they  '11  irrigate 
the  whole  chapel." 

"  Chris,  do  be  still,"  whispered  Ruth,  who  did  not 
wish  to  laugh.  "  I  don't  see  but  three  Freshmen 
who  are  really  crying,  and  the  others  are  only  look- 
ing homesick." 

"  There 's  one  over  there  with  green  mitts  on," 
persisted  Christine,  "  and  I  should  n't  wonder  if  she's 
the  Danish  French  woman  —  or  the  French  Dane." 

Her  remarks  were  interrupted  by  the  choir,  who 
rose  from  their  seats  on  the  platform  to  give  the 
signal  for  singing;  the  whole  chapel  followed,  and 
soon  the  eight  hundred  young  voices  had  joined  in 

19 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

that  glorious  hymn  beginning,  "  Lord,  thy  glory  fills 
the  heavens." 

One  can  never  forget  that  first  morning  in  chapel ! 
The  music  coming  from  every  side,  and  the  grand 
organ  bearing  the  voices  along  on  a  solemn  wave 
into  the  great  closing  chord. 

Ruth  choked,  and  the  tears  came  to  her  eyes. 
Christine  looked  bored,  but  turned  very  white,  as 
she  always  did,  when  determined  not  to  show  her 
feelings ;  and  little  Clare  sang  as  she  had  never  sung 
before.  The  Freshman  who  shared  her  book  did  not 
join  in  the  hymn  immediately,  but  soon,  catching  the 
enthusiasm  of  her  companion,  began  to  sing  in  a 
voice  so  full  and  sweet,  so  perfectly  trained,  that 
Clare  stopped  in  amazement  to  listen.  It  was  a 
beautiful  voice,  wide-spreading  like  a  flower,  and 
vibrating  with  all  those  exquisite  overtones,  or  upper 
tones,  that  are  so  dear  to  a  musician's  heart.  Other 
people  stopped  to  listen  too,  and  while  the  Pres- 
ident was  reading  from  the  Bible,  the  girls  who 
were  sitting  near  the  stranger  studied  her  with  naive 
interest.  She  seemed  entirely  unconscious  of  herself, 
however,  and  when  the  next  hymn  began,  sang  a 
perfect  second  to  Clare's  soprano. 

After  the  prayer  was  finished  and  the  dear  chant  of 
"  Our  Father  who  art  in  Heaven,"  had  been  sung, 
the  President  made  a  welcoming  speech  to  the  enter- 
ing class,  and  requested  them  to  remain  in  chapel 
after  the  others  had  gone,  to  meet  their  Class  Officer. 

The  music  of  the  organ  rushed  forth  again,  while 
the  Seniors  and  Juniors  filed  out,  two  by  two,  the 
Sophomores  followed  from  the  transepts,  and  the 
Freshmen  were  left  by  themselves,  wondering  what 

20 


FRESHMAN   EXPERIENCES 

on  earth  a  Class  Officer  was,  —  whether  he  would 
wear  epaulets,  and  carry  something  to  hit  them  with. 

Presently  a  mild-looking  man,  who  had  been  sitting 
in  the  Faculty  Row,  in  the  transept,  hurried  into  the 
hall  with  an  armful  of  recitation  schedules,  and  hav- 
ing called  the  roll,  he  proceeded  to  distribute  these 
among  the  new-comers,  endeavoring  to  explain, 
meanwhile,  the  mysteries  of  "  Elective "  and  "  Re- 
quired "  studies,  the  undesirability  of  "  conflicts," 
and  the  reason  why  the  old  Gymnasium  was  not  the 
same  as  the  new  one. 

"What  do  you  make  of  this  conglomeration?" 
asked  Ruth,  who  was  puzzling  over  her  schedule- 
"  Now,  according  to  this,  we  have  Latin,  German, 
and  History  all  at  the  same  time,  and  that  is  what 
I  should  call  overdoing  it." 

"  Let  's  toss  up  and  see  which  wins,"  suggested 
Kathleen  Carey,  who  had  taken  Miss  Gilbert's  empty 
seat. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Burritt,"  said  Clare,  in  an  anxious 
voice,  "  I  have  Elocution  at  the  same  time  that  I 
have  German,  and  they're  both  in  the  same  room. 
How  do  you  suppose  they  manage  that?  " 

"  It  all  comes  of  being  gregarious,"  said  Christine, 
in  disgust ;  and  the  pretty  girl,  who  had  been  study- 
ing her  schedule  in  silence,  looked  up  with  a  laugh. 
Now  we  all  like  to  have  our  jokes  appreciated,  and 
the  stranger  had  a  pre-eminently  ladylike  appear- 
ance ;  so  it  was  not  long  before  she  and  Chris  were 
consulting  together  as  if  they  had  always  been 
friends. 

"Suppose  we  write  down  the  names  of  all  the 
studies  that  every  one  has  at  the  same  time,  and  then 

21 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

draw  lots  as  to  which  one  we  all  go  to,"  suggested 
the  pretty  girl,  who  was  much  amused  by  the  whole 
situation. 

Her  plan  was  adopted,  and  the  lot  fell  to  German, 
which  was  represented  as  being  in  L.  H.  at  nine 
o'clock. 

"  Now,  what  on  earth  is  L.  H.  ? "  they  said,  and 
then  some  one  happened  to  remember  that  Lincoln 
Hall  was  the  name  of  the  Science  Building ;  so  the 
little  company  sallied  forth  in  quest  of  it,  feeling  very 
glad  that  there  was  not  an  old  and  a  new  Science 
Building  to  distract  them.  After  having  alarmed  the 
Zoology  Professor,  and  plunged  in  upon  the  Junior 
Physics,  they  succeeded  in  rinding  the  German  class, 
where  it  appeared  that  they  were  expected.  The 
teacher  gave  them  a  list  of  books  that  they  were 
to  get  for  to-morrow,  and  after  a  lengthy  disser- 
tation on  Der,  die,  das  as  found  in  emergencies, 
allowed  them  to  depart. 

The  girls  wandered  about  the  campus  until  their 
hour  was  up,  taking  a  mental  photograph  of  the 
place,  and  wondering  if  they  would  be  able  to  find 
any  of  the  buildings  after  dark.  They  particularly 
liked  the  old  Storey  House,  with  its  Pantheon-like 
pillars  in  front,  and  the  group  of  genial  pine-trees 
shading  its  back  windows.  Then  they  walked  down 
the  road  that  led  between  the  cordial  little  Hadley, 
and  its  neighbor,  the  uncompromising  Warren,  and 
found  the  new  Gym,  which  they  invaded  in  a  body, 
and  had  an  impromptu  dance.  When  they  returned 
to  College  Hall  the  corridors  were  full  of  changing 
classes,  but  a  friendly  Sophomore  piloted  them  to  the 
Latin  room,  where  Dr.  Gillette,  an  active  and  alto- 

22 


FRESHMAN   EXPERIENCES 

together  delightful   man,    dismissed  them   in   a   few 
minutes. 

"  I  'm  so  sorry  that  you  are  not  to  be  in  our  divis- 
ion," said  Ruth  to  Miss  Hathaway,  the  pretty  girl, 
who,  on  account  of  coming  later  in  the  alphabet,  had 
been  relegated  to  the  eleven-o'clock  class. 

"  I  wonder  if  it  would  be  all  right  to  go  home 
now,"  said  Clare.  "  We  have  n't  any  more  studies 
this  morning." 

"  Yes,  you  look  tired  !  "  said  Ruth.  "  Chris  and  I 
are  going  down  town  now,  to  order  the  Livy  and 
those  German  books,  and  I  '11  tell  them  to  send  up 
yours  too,  if  you  like." 

"Oh,  thank  you  so  much,"  said  Clare,  gratefully; 
and  presently  she  started  for  home,  feeling  as  if  she 
ought  not  to  leave  the  college  without  asking  per- 
mission of  somebody,  and  half  expecting  that  the 
Registrar  would  rush  out  to  drag  her  back.  Another 
Freshman,  who  also  seemed  uncertain  of  life  in 
general,  overtook  her,  and  the  two  fell  into  a  shy 
conversation. 

"How  do  you  like  college?"  asked  Clare,  who 
thought  this  must  be  a  suitable  thing  to  say. 

"  Oh,  very  much,  don't  you?"  answered  the  other; 
and  then  conversation  flagged. 

"Do  you  like  music?"  again  ventured  Clare,  who 
found  it  natural  to  speak  of  the  subject  nearest  her 
heart. 

"  Oh,  ever  so  much,"  said  the  Freshman,  with 
enthusiasm.  "I  am  studying  the  piano;  are  you?" 

"  Yes,  —  at  least  I  was  before  I  came  away,  but  I 
can't  help  loving  my  violin  a  little  the  best.  You  see, 
it  was  my  father's  violin,  and  it  knows  me  very  well." 

23 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  How  perfectly  lovely !  "  was  the  appreciative  re- 
sponse. "  I  do  wish  you  would  let  me  play  your 
accompaniments  sometimes.  Are  you  going  to  take 
violin  lessons  here  at  college?" 

"  No,  I  'm  to  have  piano  now  with  Dr.  Page,  and 
next  year  my  mother  wants  me  to  take  up  singing. 
Don't  you  think  that  the  Analysis  Class  Concerts  will 
be  interesting?  One  of  the  girls  told  me  that  they 
often  have  string  quartets,  as  well  as  the  piano,  and 
Dr.  Page  explains  everything.  That  will  be  nice,  I 
think ;  but  oh,  it  is  dreadful  to  be  so  far  away  from 
German  Opera ! " 

"  I  have  n't  heard  much  German  Opera,"  said  the 
Freshman,  respectfully.  "Would  you  mind  telling 
me  your  name?" 

"  Clare  Deland.     What 's  yours  ?  " 

"  Rachel  Winter.  My  room-mate  and  I  are  board- 
ing at  Dr.  Gillette's,  on  the  hill.  He  is  ever  so  nice, 
and  his  wife  is  charming.  You  must  surely  come  to 
see  us." 

"  I  surely  will,"  said  Clare,  "  for  I  live  on  the  hill 
too.  And  now  I  wonder  if  we  would  be  allowed  to 
practise  in  the  Music  Building  when  there  is  a  room 
vacant.  Do  you  suppose  so? " 

"  We  might  ask  the  President,"  said  Miss  Winter, 
seriously.  "  He  would  be  sure  to  know." 

There  was  a  light  step  behind  them,  and  a  pretty 
Junior  came  up  beside  Clare  with  a  look  of  apology 
which  was  both  comical  and  charming. 

"  Forgive  me,"  she  said,  "  for  overhearing  a  part 
of  your  conversation,  but  you  really  must  n't  ask  the 
President  about  practising  in  the  Music  Building. 
It 's  all  right  for  you  to  practise  there,  and  he  does  n't 

24 


FRESHMAN   EXPERIENCES 

have  anything  to  do  with  such  things.  If  the  Grind 
Committee  should  get  hold  of  your  little  plan,  they 
would  give  you  no  peace." 

Clare  and  her  companion  looked  at  each  other 
aghast.  The  Grind  Committee !  What  new  horror 
was  this?  The  Junior  began  to  laugh,  and  then, 
begging  pardon  for  her  rudeness,  laughed  again. 

"  Please  don't  look  so  frightened,"  she  said.  "  You 
must  have  heard  of  the  reception  that  the  Sopho- 
mores give  every  year  to  the  Freshmen,  and  you 
know  they  love  to  get  all  the  grinds,  or  jokes,  on  the 
Freshmen  that  they  can,  to  turn  into  souvenirs.  You 
will  have  a  very  good  time  at  the  reception,  if  the 
girl  who  asks  you  takes  pains  in  making  out  your 
card." 

Clare  was  the  first  to  recover  herself,  and  said :  "  It 
was  very,  very  kind  in  you  to  tell  us  about  the  prac- 
tising. Of  course  we  don't  want  to  appear  any  sillier 
than  necessary." 

"  I  did  as  I  would  be  done  by,"  said  the  Junior, 
with  a  funny  smile ;  "  and  now  I  want  to  ask  you  two 
ladies  if  you  will  come  to  the  Hillard  —  that's  the 
house  near  Lincoln  Hall,  you  know  —  next  Sunday 
afternoon,  and  play  to  us.  We  always  have  music 
after  dinner,  and  it  is  very  seldom  that  we  can  get  a 
violin.  WTe  will  play  to  you,  too,  if  you  will  promise 
not  to  run  away !  "  and  she  looked  so  merry  and  cor- 
dial that  the  Freshmen  immediately  promised  to 
come,  resolving  that  they  would  practise  every 
minute  until  the  important  afternoon  arrived. 

But  as  the  time  drew  near,  their  courage  oozed 
away,  and  when  Saturday  night  came,  Miss  Winter 
confided  to  Clare  that  she  wished  they  had  n't  said 

25 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

they  would  go.  "  You  play  beautifully,"  she  said 
apologetically,  "  but  I  get  terribly  rattled  in  my  ac- 
companiments, and  with  all  those  upper-class  girls 
there  I  know  I  should  simply  ruin  that  '  Raff's 
Cavatina.' " 

"  We  might  write  her  a  note,"  said  Clare,  who  felt 
herself  wavering  in  turn,  "  or  perhaps  we  shall  sec 
her  to-night  at  the  Freshman  Frolic.  But  what 
reason  can  we  give  for  not  coming?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  Miss  Winter,  dubi- 
ously. "  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  compose  a 
note  to-morrow.  You  be  thinking  about  what  we  '11 
say  in  it,  and  I'll  come  up  to  Mrs.  Hemp's  early, 
before  church,  so  that  we  can  combine  ideas." 

The  Freshman  Frolic  was  held  in  the  new  Gym, 
and  was  merely  an  informal  dance,  at  which  different 
girls  took  turns  in  being  orchestra,  and  everybody 
was  supposed  to  be  very  polite  to  the  Freshmen. 
Let  it  not  be  recorded  that  there  were  certain  mis- 
chievous spirits  who  went  to  the  Frolic  to  mock  and 
even  to  jeer  at  those  who  were  there,  or  who  repaired 
to  Henley's  and  inflicted  upon  themselves  a  strawberry 
ice  rather  than  assimilate  the  joys  of  this  assembly. 

Mrs.  Hemp's  girls  were  escorted  to  the  Frolic  by 
Maude  Gilbert  and  Theresa  Robinson ;  while  Miss 
Snow,  a  spectacled  Senior  who  was  deaf  in  one  ear, 
agreed  to  come  later  and  do  some  introducing.  Both 
Clare  and  Rachel  Winter  danced  with  their  Junior, 
Miss  Campbell,  that  evening,  but  studiously  avoided 
the  subject  of  the  Sunday-afternoon  performance, 
although  she  herself  seemed  inclined  to  dwell  upon 
it.  They  had  been  much  alarmed  by  the  previous 
discovery  that  Miss  Campbell  was  a  member  of  the 

26 


FRESHMAN   EXPERIENCES 

Sigma,  —  the  older  of  the  two  literary  societies,  — 
and  was  also  a  very  prominent  girl  in  her  class.  She 
introduced  her  two  proteges  to  several  delightful 
Seniors,  who  expressed  the  greatest  pleasure  at 
meeting  them,  and  said  they  were  really  looking  for- 
ward to  the  little  Musicale  of  to-morrow  !  When  the 
Frolic  was  nearly  over,  the  Glee  Club  sang  the  well- 
known  "  Balm  of  Gilead,"  beginning  with  "  Here 's  to 
Ninety-two,  she  's  the  best  of  all  of  you,"  and  end- 
ing with  "  Here  's  to  Ninety-five,  she  's  the  freshest 
class  alive,  Drink  her  down,  drink  her  down,  drink 
her  down,  down,  down !  " 

"  '  The  freshest  class  alive !  '  "  muttered  Kathleen 
Carey  explosively,  on  the  way  home.  "  '  All  them 
things  that  you  say  I  are,  you  be.'  Just  wait  till  we 
get  there." 

"  Well,  Miss  Arnold,  whom  did  you  meet  that  you 
liked  to-night?  "  asked  Maude  Gilbert,  as  the  girls 
sat  down  in  Mrs.  Hemp's  great  hall,  to  rest  before 
going  upstairs. 

"  Nobody,"  said  Christine,  conclusively.  "  They 
all  stepped  on  my  toes." 

"  You  certainly  looked  fierce  enough  to  frighten 
any  but  the  bravest,"  said  Ruth,  with  a  laugh;  and 
Kathleen  Carey  added, — 

"  It 's  always  the  valiant  what  has  the  big  feet" 

"  Well,  I  had  an  adventure,"  announced  Ruth, 
proudly.  "  Somebody  introduced  me  to  a  Miss 
Burritt,  —  a  Ninety-three  girl,  I  think,  and  she  said 
that  she  had  found  me  in  the  catalogue  and  was 
meaning  to  look  me  up,  because  we  had  the  same 
name.  Wasn't  that  nice  in  her?  And  she  asked 
me  to  go  to  the  Sophomore  reception." 

27 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Perhaps  you  are  relatives,"  said  Theresa  Robin- 
son, looking  at  Ruth  with  much  respect,  for  Louise 
Burritt  was  one  of  "  the "  nice  Juniors  in  the 
college. 

"  We  tried  to  find  a  relationship,"  said  Ruth,  "  and 
we  had  just  settled  on  one  great-grandfather  we  had 
in  common,  when  I  unfortunately  remembered  that 
he  was  drowned  in  a  tub  of  water  at  the  age  of  two 
years ;  so  we  had  to  give  him  up." 

"  Oh  dear,  I  had  a  great-aunt  who  fell  down  our 
back-cellar  stairs  into  a  barrel  of  soft  soap,"  said 
Kathleen,  mournfully.  "  Why  does  n't  somebody  ask 
me  to  the  Sophomore  reception  ?  " 

"  I  '11  take  you  with  pleasure,"  said  Maude  Gilbert, 
who  found  Kathleen  extremely  entertaining. 

"  And  I  '11  take  Miss  Deland,  if  I  may,"  said  Theresa 
Robinson,  laying  her  hand  on  Clare's.  "  I've  begun 
to  think  already  about  the  girls  that  she  would  like  to 
meet." 

"  Oh,  how  lovely  in  you  !  "  said  Clare,  flushing 
with  delight.  And  everybody  laughed  as  the  little 
company  broke  up  for  the  night. 

The  next  morning  Rachel  Winter  came  up  to  bring 
the  note  that  she  had  composed,  and  also  brought 
her  room-mate,  Salome  Judd,  a  young  lady  who 
spoke  so  deliberately  that  one's  idea  of  what  she  had 
last  said  would  vanish  before  any  more  words  came 
in  sight. 

"Now,  what  do  you  think  of  this?"  said  Rachel, 
producing  her  note.  "  Sally  does  n't  approve,  but  I 
consider  it  the  best  thing  I  ever  did."  And  she  read 
an  elaborate  composition  in  which  Clare  figured 
prominently  with  a  sprained  ankle,  and  she  herself 

28 


FRESHMAN   EXPERIENCES 

escaped    with     the    minor    ailment    of    a    frightful 
toothache. 

"  I  'm  —  afraid "- —  that  — would  n't  —  do,  because  " 
began  Miss  Judd ;  and  Clare  found  time  to  read  her 
own  note,  which  ran,  — 

DEAR  Miss  CAMPBELL,  —  We  want  to  come,  but  we  're 
too  scared ;  so  please  excuse  us. 

Yours  truly,  CLARE  DELAND. 

"  Oh,  that  is  much  too  snippy,"  said  Rachel,  with 
decision.  "  She  would  never  speak  to  us  again  if  we 
sent  that." 

"  Well,  what  shall  we  say  then  ?  "  said  Clare,  who 
was  beginning  to  feel  discouraged. 

"They're  —  such  —  lies,"  continued  Miss  Judd, 
still  referring  to  her  room-mate's  note. 

Several  more  excuses  were  evolved  and  discarded, 
and  it  ended  in  not  sending  any  note  at  all;  the 
Freshmen  simply  did  not  go,  when  the  time  came, 
and  Edith  Campbell,  who  had  invited  a  number  of 
friends  to  hear  them  play,  was  unmercifully  teased 
by  those  ungrateful  ones. 

"  It  is  a  good  joke  on  me,"  she  said,  laughing,  "  but 
you  can't  expect  me  to  be  hospitable  to  any  more 
Ninety-five  girls." 

"  Hospitality  I  don't  call  it,"  said  a  Senior.  "  To 
ask  the  poor  little  souls  to  come  and  entertain  us, 
without  promising  them  even  a  sweet  potato  for  their 
pains  !  I  don't  wonder  they  did  n't  respond." 

"But  I  was  going  to  ask  them  to  our  Dramatics  if 
they  'd  been  obliging,"  explained  Edith,  "  and  I  have 
a  nice  little  cake  and  some  tea  for  them  upstairs." 

"  A  cake  and  tea,  did  you  say,  Edith?  "  asked  Miss 
29 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Burritt,  slipping  her  hand  through  her  friend's  arm ; 
"I  'm  so  sorry  those  Freshmen  did  n't  come  !  Girls, 
let 's  drop  in  on  Edith  before  we  disperse,  —  what  do 
you  say?" 

"  Agreed,"  answered  the  others ;  and  a  laughing 
company  followed  Edith  up  to  her  sanctum,  where 
the  tea-ball  still  reposed  unused  in  the  vacant  cup. 

"  Did  you  know  that  you  had  a  rival  in  the  Fresh- 
man class,  Edith?"  asked  one  of  the  girls.  "There 
is  a  certain  Miss  Hathaway,  who  is  said  to  be  more 
beautiful  than  you,  and  we  are  going  to  call  upon  her 
in  a  body  this  evening  to  satisfy  our  curiosity." 

"  Dear  me,  what  fun  !  I  '11  take  her  to  the  recep- 
tion," said  Miss  Campbell,  who  enjoyed  the  privilege 
of  being  the  college  beauty.  "  But  I  'm  afraid  I 
sha'n't  be  jealous  of  her  even  if  her  charms  do  sur- 
pass mine,  for  I  think  that  we  need  —  that  is,  girls 
won't  you  have  some  more  cake?" 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   WEARING   OF  THE   GREEN 

ARDIS  HATHAWAY  would  have  been  annoyed,  had 
she  overheard  this  conversation,  because  her  personal 
appearance  was  not  a  subject  that  interested  her, 
except  as  a  means  to  an  end.  She  would  have  pre- 
ferred to  be  singled  out  as  a  young  person  of  inherent 
executive  ability,  or  intellectual  force,  and  was  act- 
ually jealous  of  that  beauty  which  distracted  one's 
attention  from  her  mental  powers.  Having  lost  her 
mother  when  a  baby,  she  was  left  to  the  companion- 
ship of  housekeepers,  and  a  father  who  usually 
ignored  her  existence.  But,  his  library  being  at  her 
disposal,  she  imbibed  much  literature  of  an  ethical, 
political,  and  epicurean  nature,  which  turned  her 
mind  into  strange  channels.  She  saw  through  people 
easily,  but  did  not  let  them  know  it,  because  they 
amused  her  too  much.  One  of  her  favorite  pastimes 
was  to  plan  what  a  certain  person  would  do  under 
given  conditions,  and  then  provide  the  conditions  in 
order  to  verify  her  deductions.  She  enjoyed  stirring 
people  up,  and  drawing  out  their  most  aggressive 
opinions ;  but  she  could  make  them  like  her  when 
she  chose,  and  her  definition  of  originalitywas  to  say 
that  such  and  such  a  person  was  "  worth  reading." 

She  and  Christine  Arnold  found  each  other  inter- 
esting, to  their  mutual  surprise,  and  exchanged 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

theories  while  investigating  the  fragrant  wood-paths 
and  hazy  meadows  around  South  Harland.  One  of 
their  conversations  remained  in  Christine's  mind  long 
after  that  first  week  of  college  was  over.  They  had 
been  walking  through  the  quaint  old  street  of 
Hadley,  and,  passing  beneath  the  overreaching  trees, 
were  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  mountains. 
For  a  while  neither  of  them  spoke,  and  then  Christine 
said :  "  Is  n't  it  hard  that  self-expression  should  be 
the  ruling  passion  of  mankind?  When  I  see  a  thing 
like  that  I  cannot  be  happy  until  I  have  written  it 
down." 

"  It  is  true  that  we  all  have  something  to  say,"  said 
Ardis,  "  and  it  is  equally  true  that  it  is  the  main  object 
of  other  people  to  prevent  our  saying  it." 

"  Do  people  bore  you  to  death?"  asked  Christine. 
"  They  bore  me  !  " 

"  No,"  answered  Ardis,  "  because  I  don't  expect 
anything  of  them,  in  the  first  place.  I  simply  go 
away.  If  you  never  expect  anything  of  any  one,  you 
will  never  be  disappointed." 

Christine  pondered  over  this  in  silence. 

"  I  think,  then,  that  I  would  rather  be  disappointed 
sometimes,"  she  said,  as  they  turned  to  go  home. 
"  When  I  cease  to  be  disappointed  in  anybody  or 
in  anything,  it  will  be  because  I  have  lowered  my 
ideals." 

The  girls  walked  along  for  some  time  without 
speaking,  and  then  Ardis  said,  "  You  should  not  have 
brought  ideals  to  college  with  you ;  they  take  up 
too  much  room." 

Christine  laughed.  "  I  fear  that  mine  will  do  some 
trespassing  in  that  case,  for  they  are  not  even  full- 

32 


THE  WEARING   OF  THE   GREEN 

grown  yet.  In  fact,  I  believe  that  they  are  just 
beginning  to  expand." 

"  Your  idea  of  college,  then,  is  that  it  resembles  a 
huge  corn-popper,  into  which  we  throw  our  un- 
developed ideals,  and  when  these  have  been  shaken 
long  enough  over  the  fire  of  learning,  they  burst  into 
nice  fluffy  kernels,  which  —  to  complete  the  simile 
—  are  eaten  up  as  soon  as  we  go  out  into  the 
world?" 

.  "  It  would  be  better  for  an  ideal  to  be  eaten  up 
than  to  be  so  tough  and  scorched  that  nobody  would 
touch  it." 

"  Yes,"  continued  Ardis;  "  butlf  you  try  to  swallow 
another  person's  ideal  in  addition  to  your  own,  you 
are  very  likely  to  choke  yourself  and  die.  Moral : 
Don't  adopt  other  people's  standard  of  right  and 
wrong." 

"  It  is  curious,"  observed  Christine,  "  that  I  hap- 
pen to  disagree  with  you  in  everything  that  you  say ; 
but  I  presume  it  makes  our  conversations  more 
interesting." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Ardis ;  "  that  is  the  cause  of  all 
interest,  —  disagreement.  But  we  agree  upon  the 
main  fact,  that  our  conversations  are  interesting,  do 
we  not?  And  that  Philippa  Fairbank  is  n't.  Perhaps 
that  is  why  Philippa  is  emerging  from  the  cemetery, 
at  this  precise  moment,  with  Amethyst  Allen  in  her 
wake,  and  they  are  both  coming  to  meet  us." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Arnold  !  "  said  Philippa,  when  she  en- 
countered the  two  girls,  "  the  Sophomores  had  their 
class  meeting  to-day,  after  all;  so  there's  no  reason 
why  we  should  n't  have  ours  to-morrow.  Is  n't  it  all 
exciting?" 

3  33 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

"  Very,"  said  Ardis  and  Christine,  who  were  not 
excited  in  the  least.  "  It 's  a  beautiful  day,  —  yes. 
Good-bye ;  "  and  they  hastened  on  their  way,  to  finish 
the  afternoon  on  the  back  campus,  where  philosophy 
could  be  supplemented  with  apples. 

On  the  following  morning  the  Freshman  class  were 
electrified  by  finding  this  notice  upon  the  college 
bulletin  board :  — 


'95 

CLASS    MEETING! 
TO-DAY 

AT  2  P.  M.  IN  Music  HALL. 
EVERYBODY  COME  ! !  ! 


"  Hurrah !  "  cried  Kathleen  Carey,  tossing  her  red 
Livy  into  the  air.  "We  've  entered  upon  our  political 
function !  " 

"Miss  Carey,  how  could  you?"  exclaimed  Ame- 
thyst Allen,  in  horror ;  "  your  book  came  right  down 
on  that  Senior's  head." 

"Just  hold  her  till  I  get  it  off,  then,  will  you?" 
said  Kathleen.  "  I've  got  to  translate  that  remaining 
eye  of  Hannibal  before  chapel." 

The  Senior  returned  the  book  with  a  frigid  glare, 
and  passed  on,  privately  concluding  that  Ninety-five 
was  an  unbearable  class,  fit  only  for  extermination. 

When  2  P.  M.  came,  Music  Hall  was  so  crowded 
with  enthusiastic  Freshmen  that  they  were  obliged 
to  overflow  out  of  doors  and  windows,  and  several  of 

34 


THE  WEARING   OF  THE   GREEN 

them  even  elected  to  sit  on  the  edge  of  the  platform 
with  their  heads  under  the  grand  piano. 

"Where  is  the  Chairman?"  inquired  Philippa 
Fairbank,  severely,  as  the  meeting  came  to  order. 
"  Is  the  Chairman  present?  " 

It  seemed  that  no  chairman  was  present,  for  the 
reason  that  none  had  been  appointed. 

"You  be  the  Chairman,"  suggested  a  timid  voice 
from  the  front  row ;  and  as  several  other  voices  sup- 
ported this  suggestion,  Philippa  solemnly  "  took  the 
chair,"  which  happened  to  be  Dr.  Page's  music-stool. 

"  The  first  thing  to  do,  fellow-classmates,"  she  said 
with  dignity,  "  is  to  elect  a  president,  who  will  rule 
the  class  for  the  coming  year." 

"  Please,  Miss  Chairwoman,"  ventured  somebody 
in  the  back  of  the  room,  "  we  can't  elect  a  president 
without  having  a  Constitution." 

"  Is  it  the  wish  of  this  class  that  we  have  a  Consti- 
tution?" inquired  Miss  Fairbank;  and  as  there  was 
a  general  murmur  of  assent,  she  finished  pompously 
with,  "  It  seems  to  be  a  vote,  —  it  is  a  vote,  and  the 
motion  stands  as  passed." 

"  There  has  n't  been  any  motion,"  whispered  Chris- 
tine, who  was  perishing  with  laughter ;  "  and,  besides, 
she  should  n't  call  it  a  vote  only  because  it  seems  to 
be  one.  There  's  no  judging  by  appearances  !  " 

"  Has  any  one  '  Roberts'  Rules  of  Order  '?  "  asked 
a  sensible-looking  girl,  who  carried  a  fresh  notebook, 
bearing  the  name  of  Elizabeth  French  Dane. 

"  I  '11  run  around  to  Miss  Roberts'  and  get  it,"  said 
Amethyst  Allen,  who  was  an  obliging  little  person ; 
and  several  girls  forcibly  detained  her,  while  some- 
body else  explained  that  Miss  Roberts,  the  young 

35 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

and  pretty  Chemistry  assistant,  was  not  identical  with 
the  author  of  "  Roberts'  Rules  of  Order." 

Finally,  the  book  in  question  was  borrowed  from  a 
Senior  in  the  Storey  House,  the  meeting  once  more 
came  to  order,  and  the  Constitution  was  drawn  up  in 
tolerably  correct  form ;  so  that  now  it  only  remained 
to  elect  that  unfortunate  girl  who  was  to  "  rule  the 
class  for  the  coming  year." 

"  I  nominate  Miss  Hastings  as  President,"  pro- 
claimed a  firm  voice,  and  a  frightened-looking  Fresh- 
man rose  to  her  feet,  saying,  "  I  decline  the  office," 
but  was  violently  jerked  down  from  behind  by  a 
friend,  who  whispered,  "  Be  still,  —  you  have  n't  got 
it  yet !  " 

The  worst  of  it  was,  that  no  one  knew  anything 
about  anybody  else,  and  it  did  not  seem  reasonable 
to  vote  for  an  absolute  stranger;  but  at  last  Miss 
Hastings,  Miss  Wyman,  and  Miss  Standish  were  nomi- 
nated as  candidates,  and  requested  to  stand  on  the 
platform,  that  the  class  might  inspect  them.  Miss 
Standish  advanced  with  dignity  from  the  back  of  the 
room,  Miss  Hastings  was  propelled  forward  by  two 
anxious  friends,  and  Miss  Wyman  emerged  from 
under  the  piano.  There  was  no  doubt  that  Beacon 
Street  produced  the  best  impression,  and  Miss  Edith 
Horton  Standish  was  unanimously  elected  Presi- 
dent of  her  class,  amid  congratulations  and  hearty 
cheers. 

"  Miss  Standish  will  please  take  the  chair,"  said 
Philippa  Fairbank,  stiffly;  and  Miss  Standish  pro- 
ceeded to  screw  up  the  piano-stool,  so  that  it  would 
be  high  enough  for  her  to  sit  on. 

"  The  next  thing  to  be  decided  upon  to-day,  I 
36 


THE  WEARING   OF  THE   GREEN 

think,"  said  Miss  Fairbank,  "  is  the  class  color.     Miss 
Standish  will  conduct  the  remainder  of  the  meeting." 

"  If  she  has  a  chance  !  "  murmured  somebody,  who 
was  promptly  suppressed. 

"  I  believe  it  is  the  custom,"  said  Miss  Standish, 
with  her  cheeks  slightly  flushed,  "  for  the  entering 
class  to  take  the  color  of  the  class  that  has  just  gradu- 
ated ;  but  this  is,  of  course,  not  compulsory,  —  and 
the  color  of  the  college  is  white,  you  know." 

"  What  was  the  color  of  Ninety-one?  "  asked  some 
one ;  and  a  sepulchral  voice  from  nobody  knew  where, 
answered  "  Nile  green." 

"Who's  been  up  the  Nile?"  called  out  Kathleen 
Carey,  in  a  very  unseemly  manner ;  "  that 's  where 
the  crocodiles  come  from  !  "  A  momentary  disturb- 
ance was  caused  by  this  speech,  and  then  came  a 
long  discussion  about  the  suitability  of  various 
colors,  —  one  faction  being  strongly  in  favor  of  a 
Scotch  plaid. 

"  We  have  to  choose  a  color  that  will  be  suitable 
for  decorations,"  interposed  the  President  firmly, 
wishing  that  the  piano-stool  would  not  wiggle  so 
when  she  spoke. 

"That  is  true,"  was  one  appreciative  answer;  "who 
ever  saw  a  plaid  flower,  or  even  a  plaid  tree?" 

Finally  they  decided  to  take  green,  —  not  the  green 
that  matches  the  crocodiles,  but  the  green  that  Nature 
uses  in  all  her  decorations,  the  green  of  springtime 
and  of  summer,  and  the  green  of  Ninety-five ! 

"  Hurrah !  "  came  in  a  chorus  from  under  the 
piano ;  and  the  whole  room  joined  in  a  triumphant 
cheer,  as  the  assembly  broke  up  in  hilarious  confu- 
sion, and  rushed  downstairs. 

37 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  I  move  that  we  adjourn,"  said  Philippa  Fairbank, 
feebly,  as  the  last  girl  disappeared  into  the  hall ;  but 
nobody  heeded  her  except  the  plaster  busts  of  musi- 
cians around  the  wall,  and,  being  very  comfortable, 
they  did  not  second  the  motion. 

Green  bunting  now  became  a  prominent  feature, 
both  on  and  off  the  campus,  for  the  class  of  Ninety- 
five  had  a  color,  and  wanted  other  people  to  know  it. 
Green  hat  trimmings  walked  into  chapel,  and  green 
flags  with  a  white  '95  in  the  centre  hung  in  every 
Freshman  room. 

"  Union  is  strength,"  said  Kathleen  Carey,  as  she 
solemnly  tacked  a  green  petticoat  around  the  edge 
of  her  table,  "  and  no  one  shall  dare  to  tread  with 
his  foot  upon  them  that  wear  the  green !  "  Ruth 
made  a  beautiful  banner  of  silk,  and  hung  it  opposite 
the  Yale-Harvard  combination,  where  it  caught  the 
sunlight  in  its  green  folds,  and  looked  "as  if  it 
were  proud  to  begin  life  with  a  class  like  Ninety- 
five." 

"  You  don't  care  enough  for  our  flag,  Christine," 
objected  Ruth.  "  I  think  that  you  ought  at  least  to 
get  up  a  little  class  spirit  before  the  Sophomore 
reception !  " 

Christine  looked  disgusted,  and  turned  away  in 
haughty  silence,  for  she  had  not  yet  been  asked  to 
the  Sophomore  reception,  and  was  distinctly  annoyed 
by  the  fact. 

"  It 's  not  that  I  want  to  go  to  their  old  dance," 
she  said  violently,  "  but  one  does  n't  like  to  achieve 
notoriety  as  being  the  only  person  who  was  not 
invited." 

The  truth  was  that  Christine  had  gained  the  repu- 
33 


THE  WEARING   OF  THE   GREEN 

tation  of  being  a  snob  among  the  girls  who  would 
have  been  her  friends,  and  several  of  them  had  justly 
condemned  her  as  being  "too  snippy  to  live,"  —  a 
fact  which  did  not  shorten  her  existence,  but  did 
much  to  curtail  her  pleasures.  The  Sophomores 
always  appoint  a  committee  to  see  that  every  Fresh- 
man is  personally  invited  to  the  reception,  and  it  was 
one  of  the  joys  in  Christine's  life  to  know  that  Maude 
Gilbert  was  on  this  committee.  Maude  had  been 
pursuing  upper-class  girls  for  a  week,  in  behalf  of 
her  "  left-over  "  list,  and  had  purposely  left  Christine 
till  the  last,  —  intending,  however,  to  give  her  a  very 
nice  partner  when  the  time  came. 

One  afternoon  the  two  Freshmen  were  wrestling 
over  their  Latin  translation,  when  there  was  a  knock 
at  the  door,  and  Christine  went  to  open  it,  feeling 
inclined  to  throw  something  at  whoever  was  there. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  a  sweet  voice,  "  but 
does  Miss  Arnold  live  here?"  and  Christine  found 
herself  ushering  in  a  very  pretty,  light-haired  little 
girl,  who  was  a  total  stranger. 

"  We  are  very  glad  to  see  you,"  said  Ruth,  cordially ; 
"  won't  you  sit  down  ?  "  and  the  face  of  the  strange 
girl  brightened,  as  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"You  are  Miss  Arnold,  are  you  not?"  she  said, 
beaming  with  satisfaction.  "  I  've  come  to  ask  you 
to  the  Sophomore  reception." 

Ruth  looked  confused,  but  turned  to  Christine,  who 
was  transfixing  her  with  an  irate  glance. 

"No;  my  room-mate  is  Miss  Arnold,"  she  ex- 
plained. "  But  I  am  sure  that  she  would  love  to  go 
with  you.  Christine,  wasn't  it  sweet  in  her  to  come 
and  ask  you  ?  " 

39 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

Christine  turned  crimson  with  rage,  and  said  not  a 
word.  The  little  stranger  looked  troubled. 

"  I  'm  sure  —  I  hope  that  I  have  n't  come  too  late," 
she  said  timidly.  "  I  wanted  so  much  to  have  a 
Freshman  for  the  reception,  and  one  of  the  girls 
here  said  she  thought  you  were  still  disengaged. 
My  name  is  Marjorie  Drew." 

"  I  'm  sure  Christine  will  love  to  go  with  you,  Miss 
Drew,"  said  Ruth,  ineffectually  trying  to  reach  her 
room-mate's  toe  and  demolish  it. 

"  It  was  very  kind  in  you,"  said  Christine,  finally, 
"  but  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  to  decline  your  chari- 
table invitation.  I  would  prefer  to  go  with  a  friend." 

"  Oh,  if  you  have  a  friend  here,  of  course  it  would 
be  pleasanter  to  go  with  her,"  said  Miss  Drew,  who 
was  beginning  to  feel  a  little  hurt ;  "  and  I  hope  you 
will  pardon  me  for  intruding,  but  I  should  have  liked 
so  much  to  take  you  myself.  Perhaps  your  friend 
will  give  me  a  dance  with  you,  if  they  are  not  all 
engaged." 

Christine's  honesty  came  to  the  front.  "  I  have  n't 
any  friend  here,"  she  said  slowly;  "  but  what  I  meant 
was  that  I  don't  want  to  go  with  a  stranger  who  asks 
me  just  because  she  was  made  to  !  " 

Ruth  looked  terribly  distressed,  and  Marjorie  even 
more  so.  "  I  did  not  ask  you  because  I  was  made 
to,"  she  said,  rising ;  "  but  in  any  case  it  appears  that 
I  Ve  made  a  mistake,  and  I  'm  very  sorry." 

She  turned  to  go,  but  suddenly  crossed  the  room 
again  and  put  her  hand  into  Christine's. 

"Won't  you  come  with  me,  after  all?"  she  asked 
impulsively.  "  I  would  n't  have  hurt  your  feelings 
for  the  world,  dear  child,  because  mine  are  always 

40 


THE  WEARING   OF  THE   GREEN 

getting  hurt,  too,  you  see,  and  I  know  just  how  it 
feels ! " 

"  Oh,  do  not  give  yourself  any  uneasiness  with 
regard  to  my  feelings,"  said  Christine,  coldly.  "  I 
don't  think  that  any  stranger  would  be  capable  of 
hurting  them;  "  and  poor  Marjorie  felt  too  chilled  to 
say  another  word. 

"  I  suppose  she  has  heard  that  I  'm  working  my 
way  through  college,"  she  thought,  as  the  door  closed 
behind  her,  and  she  went  downstairs  to  tell  Miss 
Gilbert  the  result  of  her  interview. 

Maude  was  justly  enraged  at  Christine's  conduct, 
and  vowed  that  she  should  not  go  to  the  Sophomore 
reception  at  all. 

"  That  would  be  a  disgrace  to  your  class,"  said 
Marjorie,  with  spirit^  "and,  besides,  I  almost  under- 
stand how  the  girl  feels  about  it.  Perhaps  I  did  not 
put  my  invitation  rightly,  —  I  don't  know,  —  but  it  is 
very  certain  that  she  does  n't  want  to  go  with  me." 

"  She 's  an  inexcusable,  unbearable  little  snob," 
said  Maude,  fiercely,  "  and  I  shall  give  her  a  blowing 
up  for  insulting  you  so  !  " 

"  Don't  be  too  hard  on  her,  please,"  said  Marjorie, 
gently.  "  She  's  only  a  mistaken  child,  that 's  all ; 
and  do  you  know,  I  rather  liked  her  in  spite  of  every- 
thing. I  think  she  would  be  incapable  of  a  mean  or 
underhand  action,  and  there 's  a  certain  greatness 
about  her  too.  Yes,  I  liked  her !  " 

Maude  did  speak  to  Christine,  and  represented  to 
her  that  to  be  absent  from  the  Sophomore  reception 
would  make  her  the  subject  of  much  unpleasant  com- 
ment, especially  if  it  were  known  that  she  had  refused 
the  invitation  of  a  Junior  like  Marjorie  Drew.  Now, 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

it  is  quite  probable  that  Christine's  absence  would 
not  have  been  noticed  at  all,  but  if  it  had  been, 
the  blame  would  naturally  have  fallen  upon  that 
member  of  the  committee  who  had  failed  to  do  her 
duty ;  so  Maude  did  not  cease  her  indignant  protests, 
until  Christine  had  consented  to  accept  the  invitation 
of  a  Kansas  Senior,  a  distinctly  patronizing  young 
lady,  who  sent  up  a  dozen  feeble  carnations  when  the 
night  of  the  dance  came. 

"  I  would  not  have  advised  you  to  throw  all  those 
flowers  out  of  the  window,  Christine,"  expostulated 
Ruth,  who  was  engaged  in  fastening  a  cluster  of  pink 
roses  beneath  her  pretty  throat.  "  You  know  the 
girls  always  expect  you  to  wear  at  least  a  few  of  the 
flowers  they  send,  even  if  they  are  hideous." 

"  They  were  the  color  of  ducks'  feet  on  a  Japanese 
screen,"  said  Christine,  miserably,  "  and  they  would  n't 
make  me  look  beautiful." 

"  Well,  you  shall  have  some  of  mine,  sweetheart," 
said  Ruth,  offering  the  only  consolation  in  her  power ; 
"  and  I  don't  know  as  I  would  care  what  Miss  Jenkins 
thinks  anyway.  She  ought  to  have  sent  you  decent 
flowers,  if  she  expected  you  to  wear  them." 

The  reception  was  a  great  success,  the  new  Gym 
being  beautifully  decorated  with  green  boughs  and 
red  bunting,  —  the  two  class  colors ;  while  fastened  to 
the  farther  end  of  the  running  track  was  a  big  '94  in 
red  carnations,  and  on  the  opposite  side  hung  an  oak- 
leaf  '95.  The  girls  had  stripped  their  rooms  of  sofa- 
pillows  and  divan  covers  to  lay  along  the  seats,  and 
silk  screens  glimmered  brightly  in  and  out  amongst 
the  green.  With  the  music  by  a  good  orchestra,  the 
light  dresses  and  flowers,  and  last,  but  not  least,  the 

42 


THE  WEARING  OF  THE   GREEN 

two  big  bowls  of  frappe  in  one  corner,  it  all  seemed 
to  Clare  like  a  lovely,  bewildering  dream. 

"  I  wish  mamma  could  have  seen  it,"  she  said  to 
Theresa,  as  they  stood  on  the  running  track  looking 
down  on  the  dancers. 

"  How  beautiful  Miss  Arnold  looks  to-night ! " 
answered  Theresa,  who  was  not  thinking  about  her 
mother.  "  I  had  no  idea  that  she  was  so  pretty !  " 

People  always  found  it  hard  to  describe  Christine, 
for  the  reason  that  she  never  looked  twice  the  same. 
Her  hair  was  gold  in  the  sunshine  and  brown  in  the 
shadow,  like  two  of  her  own  moods ;  and  her  eyes 
were  of  the  changing  gray  that  often  indicates  an 
imaginative  temperament.  She  was  tall,  and  carried 
herself  with  so  much  dignity  that  people  were  inclined 
to  be  afraid  of  her  before  they  knew  her  well ;  but 
she  had  an  unmistakable  air  of  distinction  that  dis- 
armed all  criticism  of  a  petty  nature.  Strangers  visit- 
ing the  college  later  in  the  year  often  pointed  her  out 
to  Miss  Carlisle,  —  the  most  influential  woman  on  the 
Faculty,  —  and  asked  respectfully  if  that  young  girl 
had  not  done  something  unusual.  And  Miss  Carlisle, 
who  saw  and  heard  and  knew  everything  about  all  the 
girls,  though  they  seldom  suspected  it,  would  answer 
with  the  utmost  conviction,  "  Not  yet,  but  she  will !  " 

To-night  Christine  was  thinking  about  the  hard 
lesson  that  she  had  learned,  and  wondering  if  she 
had  not  made  a  mistake  in  holding  herself  so  aloof 
from  the  other  girls ;  this  impression  may  have  been 
confirmed  by  the  change  which  a  pretty  evening 
dress  made  in  most  of  her  companions. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  reflected,  "  that  being  at  college, 
and  not  entering  into  the  college  spirit  is  like  sitting 

43 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

on  the  end  of  a  wharf,  and  trying  to  judge  of  the 
temperature  of  the  water  by  the  other  people  that 
are  in  swimming !  "  The  longer  she  thought  about 
it,  the  less  attractive  the  wharf  side  of  the  question 
became,  and  presently  she  found  herself  giving  a 
very  civil  answer  to  a  tired  Senior  who  asked  her 
"  how  she  liked  college." 

Miss  Jenkins  regretted  that  she  had  not  taken  more 
pains  in  making  out  her  partner's  card,  but  Christine 
did  not  care.  She  was  constructing  a  new  code  of 
ethics  for  her  future  use,  and  this  new  code  did  not 
include  the  old  rule  that  "Thou  shalt  snub  thy 
neighbor." 


44 


CHAPTER   IV 

A   RENEWED   ACQUAINTANCE 

CHRISTINE  lived  up  to  her  new  principles  so  well 
that  when  Mountain  Day  came,  she  meekly  fell  in 
with  the  plans  made  by  Ruth  and  Kathleen  for  an 
all-day  drive  and  picnic,  which  would  include  two 
carriages,  and  endless  cans  of  potted  ham.  Clare's 
friends,  Rachel  Winter  and  Salome  Judd,  were  invited, 
together  with  Ardis  Hathaway,  and  Kathleen's  straw- 
berry-ice acquaintance,  Miss  Reade.  When  the  little 
party  assembled  on  that  brilliant  October  morning, 
Miss  Winter  and  her  room-mate  were  the  last  to 
arrive,  —  a  delay  which  appeared  to  have  been  caused 
by  Miss  Judd's  vacillating  temperament. 

"  Sally  never  decides  what  she  is  going  to  do  until 
every  one  else  has  done  it !  "  explained  Rachel,  indig- 
nantly. "  I  went  down  town  for  something,  and  when 
I  returned  she  was  still  sitting  on  the  floor  in  pro- 
found meditation.  And  when  I  asked  'Why?'  she 
merely  said,  '  I  can't  decide  whether  to  button  my 
boots  first,  and  then  put  on  my  hat,  or  to  put  on  my 
hat  now,  and  button  my  boots  afterwards.'  " 

Salome  looked  embarrassed ;  but  just  then  a  nod- 
ding equine  head  appeared  at  the  top  of  the  hill,  and 
Kathleen  rushed  wildly  around  the  little  group,  shak- 
ing hands  with  every  one  in  it. 

45 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Congratulate  me,  all  of  you !  "  she  said,  "  for  I 
engaged  this  beast,  and  yet  the  beast  that  is  to  come, 
—  a  very  neat  and  well-shaped  beast,  too.  Is  n't  it 
myself  that  should  be  set  up  with  regard  to  the 
matter?" 

Now  it  must  be  understood  that  every  equipage  in 
South  Harland  has  to  be  engaged  weeks  beforehand 
for  Mountain  Day,  and  Kathleen  was  justly  proud  of 
the  two  carriages  which  drew  up  before  the  door. 
But  the  other  members  of  the  party  passed  mocking 
comments  upon  the  appearance  of  these,  and  jeered 
unceasingly. 

"  This  harness  is  too  short-waisted,"  objected  Chris- 
tine, who  was  examining  the  forward  horse,  "  and 
his  tail!  Why,  Kathleen,  where  is  it?" 

"  /  have  n't  got  it,"  shouted  Kathleen,  wrathfully. 
"  Don't  look  at  me  in  that  suspicious  manner !  " 

"The  poor  beast's  met  with  an  accident,"  said 
Ardis,  thoughtfully,  "  and  it  has  embittered  his 
whole  nature.  In  addition  to  that,  his  lower  lip 
resembles  a  mattress,  with  the  upper  lip  pulled  down 
over  it  and  tucked  in  !  " 

"  This  other  horse  has  more  spirit,"  announced 
Ruth,  with  satisfaction.  "  He  chewed  me  when  I 
patted  him,  so  perhaps  he  '11  go.  Come,  girls,  let 's 
put  in  the  lunch-baskets,  for  we  ought  to  be  off." 

"  Catch  that  cheese,  Honey,"  said  Kathleen,  toss- 
ing a  brown  paper  parcel  into  Ruth's  lap.  "  Now 
for  an  all-day  jubilation  !  " 

When  the  party  started  out,  Christine  went  ahead 
in  the  first  carriage,  with  Ardis,  Kathleen,  and  Grace 
Reade ;  while  Ruth  followed,  driving  the  sedate  Sam, 
who  dreamed  of  corn  all  the  way.  Christine  rather 

46 


A  RENEWED  ACQUAINTANCE 

prided  herself  upon  her  driving,  and  whipped  up  the 
lively  Maggie  Rafferty  until  she  danced  with  rage. 

"  Christine,  do  be  careful ! "  called  Ruth  from  the 
remote  rear,  as  they  approached  the  top  of  a  steep 
hill. 

Now  Christine  had  intended  to  be  careful,  but, 
objecting  to  Ruth's  admonishing  tone,  she  touched 
Miss  Rafferty  again  with  the  whip,  and  Maggie  flew 
down  that  hill  like  a  whirlwind.  To  hold  her  was 
impossible,  and  to  the  credit  of  the  girls  in  the 
carriage,  they  neither  seized  Christine's  arm  nor 
screamed.  The  horse  made  an  abrupt  turn  at  the 
bottom  of  the  hill,  the  carriage  went  over  with  a 
smash,  and  Maggie  tore  off  down  the  street,  drag- 
ging the  broken  shafts  behind  her.  There  was  a 
cry  of  terror  from  the  other  carriage ;  but  Ruth  was 
obliged  to  attend  to  her  own  horse,  who  "  saw  bears" 
with  his  ears,  and  pretended  to  be  terribly  frightened 
—  not  one  word  of  which  was  true. 

When  they  reached  the  scene  of  disaster,  the  girls 
were  crawling  out  from  the  wreck,  and  regarding 
each  other  with  white  faces,  —  all  but  Christine,  who 
lay  very  still  with  the  blood  flowing  from  a  cut  in  her 
head.  The  unfortunate  driver  had  been  on  the  side 
of  the  carriage  which  turned  over,  and,  as  she  after- 
wards objected,  the  whole  of  the  party  had  sat  on  her 
at  once.  Ardis,  who  had  a  big  bruise  on  her  fore- 
head, was  holding  Christine's  head  in  her  lap,  and 
trying  to  stop  the  blood  with  her  handkerchief.  A 
toothless  old  woman  emerged  from  a  neighboring 
house,  fell  over  a  fragment  of  harness,  and  called 
out  in  a  shrill  voice,  "  Anybody  want  some  Pond's 
Extract?" 

47 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Water  was  brought  from  a  neighboring  well  by 
Kathleen,  who  was  gesticulating  wildly,  with  the 
crown  of  her  hat  jammed  in,  and  the  rest  of  it 
balanced  upon  one  ear.  Christine  was  effectually 
deluged  by  her  friends,  and  presently  sat  up  in  a 
rage,  with  the  water  trickling  down  her  back. 

"It's  no  more  than  could  be  expected,"  she  said 
indignantly,  "  of  a  horse  with  no  tail !  "  And  the 
girls  drew  a  long  sigh  of  relief. 

"  I  hope,"  she  continued  in  a  wrathful  tone,  "  that 
Maggie  Rafferty  will  have  a  bad  Easter,  and  die  by 
the  sword." 

"Oh,  my  darling,  are  you  very  much  hurt?"  asked 
Ruth,  making  explorations  up  and  down  Christine's 
back  with  a  trembling  hand. 

"  Stop  tickling  me,"  said  the  victim.  "  I  hope  that 
this  horse  will  be  outlawed  and  derided  of  other 
horses  —  that  the  loss  of  its  tail  will  cause  it  to  pine 
away  and  die." 

"  She 's  out  of  her  head,"  said  Rachel  Winter,  in  an 
awed  whisper. 

"  Nonsense,"  answered  Ardis,  sharply.  "  It 's  the 
way  she  always  talks.  Come,  Christine,  if  you  are 
able  to  walk,  we  will  take  you  to  the  carriage." 

Clare,  who  had  been  left  in  charge  of  old  Sam, 
towed  him  reluctantly  to  the  wreck,  and  Christine  was 
helped  in,  not  without  some  dizziness,  which  struck 
terror  to  the  hearts  of  her  companions.  When  the 
pathetic  little  procession  reached  home,  Mrs.  Hemp 
put  Christine  to  bed,  lent  Ardis  the  arnica,  and  sent 
for  a  doctor.  He  was  a  good  doctor,  but  his  eyes 
twinkled  inexcusably  when  he  heard  the  details  of 
the  escapade. 

48 


A   RENEWED   ACQUAINTANCE 

"Guess  I'll  just  step  into  Rafferty's  and  inquire 
after  the  horse,"  he  said,  when  he  had  assured  the 
group  of  damsels  in  the  hall  that  Christine  would  not 
die. 

"  A  few  days  in  bed,  and  perfect  quiet,  Mrs. 
Hemp,"  he  had  said ;  and  Christine,  who  hated  to 
stay  in  bed,  pretended  that  the  bookcase  was  the 
doctor,  and  threw  a  shoe  at  it. 

"Isn't  there  anything  that  we  can  do?"  asked  a 
kind  little  voice  at  the  door ;  and  Christine  grumbled 
from  under  the  bed-clothes,  "  Tell  her  to  go  away 
and  die." 

"Thank  you  so  very  much,  Miss  Deland,"  said 
Ruth,  gratefully,  "  but  I  think  everything  has  been 
done.  How  is  Miss  Hathaway  feeling?  " 

"The  girls  drove  her  down  to  Miss  Taylor's  in  the 
carriage,"  said  Clare,  "  and  she  seemed  to  be  all  right. 
Do  you  know  —  it 's  so  funny  —  there  has  been  a 
procession  of  small  boys  coming  to  the  house  every 
few  minutes  with  fragments  of  the  lunch  that  was 
spilled  out.  The  last  one  brought  a  corkscrew  and 
a  piece  of  harness." 

Christine  exploded  with  laughter,  and  pushed  her 
head  from  under  the  clothes. 

"  Have  they  found  my  half-pound  of  Huyler  that  I 
had  on  the  front  seat?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  they  have  n't  brought  that,"  said  Clare,  de- 
lighted to  be  of  service.  "  I  '11  go  back  and  see  if  I 
can  find  it." 

Christine   had   scorned  and  snubbed  her  from  the 

beginning,  but  it  was  possible  for  her  to  forget  things 

like  these.     The  Huyler  did  not  come  to  light;  and 

Clare,  having  counted  up  her  small  shekels,  replaced 

4  49 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

the  lost  box  by  one  exactly  like  it  at  Henley's,  taking 
a  singular  pleasure  in  the  little  deception. 

"She'll  have  to  eat  my  candy  now,  whether  she 
wants  to  or  not !  "  she  laughed  to  herself. 

Christine's  convalescence  took  a  much  shorter 
time  than  any  one  had  expected,  but  she  refused  to 
go  to  recitation  long  after  she  was  perfectly  well  able 
to  do  so. 

"  What !  go  down  to  college  with  my  head  tied 
up  in  a  red  silk  handkerchief,  and  my  nose  in  a 
sling?"  she  said  with  scorn.  "Never!" 

"Well,  I  can't  keep  on  saying  '111'  every  day, 
when  it's  only  your  vanity  that  prevents  you  from 
coming,"  said  the  exasperated  Ruth,  who  was  weary 
of  being  questioned  regarding  the  health  of  her  room- 
mate. 

"  Don't  give  any  explanation  at  all,  then,"  sug- 
gested Christine,  cheerfully.  "  A  few  cuts  more  or 
less,  don't  make  any  difference." 

They  do,  though,  as  she  was  destined  to  learn  by 
experience.  About  a  week  after  she  returned  to 
recitation,  Fraulein  Schaf  "  sprung  "  a  written  lesson 
upon  them,  and  as  Christine  had  not  looked  at  her 
German  for  many  days,  she  emerged  from  this  trial 
very  ingloriously  indeed. 

"  I  have  my  suspicions,"  she  said  to  herself  when 
she  handed  in  that  tottering  paper;  and  her  suspi- 
cions were  not  unfounded.  On  the  following  morning 
she  discovered  an  ominous  note  on  the  bulletin  board, 
and  went  up  to  chapel  casting  searching  and  irate 
glances  at  her  friends,  to  see  if  any  of  them  had  ob- 
served that  little  note  before  she  did. 

"  An  invitation  to  the  Warren  dance,  Miss  Arnold  ?  " 
5° 


A   RENEWED   ACQUAINTANCE 

inquired  a  rampant   Freshman,  whom    she  encoun- 
tered in  the  St.  George  alcove. 

"  Go  away !  "  was  the  stern  answer.  "  How  dare 
you  speak  to  me  ?  "  and  the  Freshman  retreated  in 
alarm. 

"  '  Miss  Arnold  will  please  review  her  German  with 
a  competent  tutor,  and  be  examined  in  it  again  before 
the  Christmas  vacation.'  How  ingenuous  !  "  muttered 
Christine,  "  and  I  am  to  go  to  her  '  as  soon  as  con- 
venient,' '  and  get  the  address  of  the  tutor.'  Hope 
it 's  no  one  I  ever  saw  before.  Well,  I  can  take  pains 
to  have  it  some  one  I  shall  never  see  again." 

She  sat  there  until  the  last  stragglers  had  hurried 
into  chapel,  and  the  hymn  began ;  then  she  rested 
her  head  upon  her  hands  and  read  that  humiliating 
note  over  again.  She  remembered  how  well  Henry 
had  done  at  Harvard,  how  well  Stephen  was  doing 
now,  and  regretted  that  she  had  been  born. 

Perhaps  some  other  girls  can  remember  sitting  in 
the  St.  George  alcove  during  chapel  time,  and  wish- 
ing that  there  were  some  hole  in  the  back  campus 
big  enough  for  them  to  creep  into  and  hide  them- 
selves forever  from  mortal  eyes.  It  is  certain  that 
this  particular  St.  George  and  the  Dragon  have  been 
the  recipients  of  many  woes  connected  with  the  bitter- 
sweet of  college  life. 

While  Christine  was  writhing  in  mortification,  some- 
body came  softly  into  the  alcove,  and  she  immediately 
adopted  a  look  of  unconcern. 

"What's  the  matter,  Christabel?"  asked  Ardis, 
laying  her  books  upon  the  window-ledge.  "  There, 
—  you  Ve  already  resolved  that  nothing  on  earth 
would  induce  you  to  tell  me ! " 

S1 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

This  was  so  near  the  truth  that  Christine  laughed, 
and  with  a  sudden  impulse  gave  Ardis  the  note. 

"  You  are  very  much  annoyed  over  this,  are  n't 
you?"  observed  Ardis,  when  she  had  finished  read- 
ing it.  "And  it's  exceedingly  foolish  in  you  to  care 
at  all.  When  you  are  older  you  will  learn  not  to 
mind  little  things." 

"  I  am  eighteen,  and  you  are  nineteen,"  said  Chris- 
tine, sarcastically,  "  and  this  is  n't  a  little  thing.  It's 
a  large,  horrible  disgrace,  and  when  my  father  knows 
about  it  —  " 

"  Don't  tell  him,"  interrupted  Ardis.  "  Don't  tell 
any  one  about  it,  —  not  even  Ruth ;  for,  in  the  first 
place,  it  is  not  so  important  as  you  think,  and  in  the 
second,  sympathy  would  be  your  destruction.  If 
you  let  people  sympathize  with  you,  it  will  keep  this 
annoyance  continually  before  your  mind." 

"  I  observe  that  you  have  offered  no  sympathy," 
was  the  grim  rejoinder. 

"  Christine,  I  'm  an  Epicurean.  Do  you  know 
what  an  Epicurean  is?" 

"  A  person  that  eats  too  much,  is  n't  it?  " 

"  No,  but  a  person  that  believes  in  getting  all 
the  pleasure  out  of  life  that  life  can  give.  I  believe 
in  having  a  good  time." 

"  But  that 's  just  the  trouble,"  objected  Christine. 
"  I  Ve  been  having  too  good  a  time  and  not  studying 
enough." 

"  My  dear  child,  you  don't  grasp  the  foundation  of 
this  theory.  When  you  do  something  that  will  get 
you  into  trouble,  don't  you  see  that  you  're  not  plan- 
ning for  a  good  time  at  all?  You  Ve  allowed  a  lesser 
joy  to  crowd  out  the  possibility  of  a  greater,  that 's 

52 


A  RENEWED  ACQUAINTANCE 

all.  Your  getting  yourself  conditioned  in  this  stupid 
way  was  merely  a  lack  of  foresight,  —  a  little  mistake 
in  the  time  and  place  of  economy." 

The  girls  began  to  come  out  of  chapel,  and  Ardis 
took  up  her  books  preparatory  to  depart. 

"  Remember  what  I  say,"  was  her  last  injunction, 
"  and  don't  be  so  down-hearted  about  this,  for  there 's 
nothing  to  be  ashamed  of.  You  have  only  made 
a  mistake,  which,  being  wiser  by  experience,  you 
will  not  make  again.  Farewell."  And  as  Christine 
walked  over  to  Lincoln  Hall,  she  tried  in  vain  to  dis- 
entangle the  right  from  the  wrong  in  what  Ardis  had 
said ;  her  philosophy  had  an  impressive  sound  that 
made  one  think  she  must  have  lived  long,  and  suf- 
fered much. 

Fraulein  Schaf  was  busy  that  morning,  and  when 
her  pupil  appeared  she  merely  handed  her  a  slip  of 
paper  with  the  name  and  address  of  a  tutor  written 
upon  it. 

"  Oh,  Fraulein,"  implored  Christine,  when  she  saw 
who  it  was,  "  cannot  you  send  me  to  any  other  girl? 
I  have  particular  reasons  for  not  wishing  to  take  les- 
sons of  this  young  lady." 

The  teacher  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  This  is  the  most  clever  tutor  in  the  college,"  she 
said  severely,  "  and  she  also  needs  the  money;  so  I 
must  insist  that  you  begin  with  her  immediately  the 
Unterrichten.  I  have  given  her  your  name."  And 
Christine  knew  that  further  argument  was  useless. 

That  afternoon  she  took  her  books,  and  stole  down 
through  back  ways  to  a  street  behind  the  Opera 
House,  where,  up  two  flights  of  stairs,  in  a  little  room 
that  resembled  an  attic,  lived  Marjorie  Drew. 

53 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  Miss  Arnold,"  she  said 
when  Christine  came  in.  "  It  is  so  delightful  for  me 
to  have  an  interesting  pupil,  that  I  'm  selfish  enough 
to  be  glad  you  were  ill  and  had  to  fall  a  little  behind. 
We  shall  have  fine  times  over  this  old  German,  I  'm 
sure." 

Now  this  was  tact;  but  Christine  looked  at  her 
coldly  and  answered :  "  It  was  n't  illness.  It  was 
Mountain  Day,  and  besides  I  hate  to  study.  Have 
you  a  dressmaker  here?  This  appears  to  be  a 
sewing-room." 

Marjorie  colored  sensitively.  "  I  'm  sorry  that  you 
dislike  seeing  work  around,"  she  said,  beginning  to 
gather  up  the  pieces  of  blue  flannel  that  lay  scattered 
about.  "  But  Elizabeth  and  I  were  fortunate  enough 
to  get  a  very  large  order  for  gym  suits  this  week, 
and  have  been  toiling  early  and  late  to  finish  them." 

"  You  mean  that  you  make  them  yourself  ?  "  said 
Christine,  aghast.  "  Why,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is 
horrible,  do  you  do  that?  And  who  is  Elizabeth?  " 

"  Elizabeth  Dane  is  one  of  your  classmates,"  an- 
swered Marjorie,  "  and  we  both  work  because  other- 
wise we  should  not  be  able  to  remain  at  college. 
Now,  if  you  are  ready,  Miss  Arnold,  we  will  begin 
on  Germelshausen? 

Christine  was  in  deadly  terror  lest  the  "  Danish 
Frenchwoman  "  should  return  and  find  her  there,  but 
Marjorie  reassured  her  by  saying,  "  Miss  Dane  and  I 
regard  this  room  as  a  confessional,  and  no  one  ever 
knows  who  my  pupils  are,  or  when  they  come." 

On  the  following  day  Christine  felt  more  inclined 
to  converse  than  to  work, — a  tendency  which  Miss 
Drew  promptly  discouraged. 

54 


A  RENEWED   ACQUAINTANCE 

"  I  'm  sorry  that  you  take  no  interest  in  your 
lessons,  Miss  Arnold,"  she  said.  "  I  had  not  supposed 
that  you  were  that  type  of  girl." 

Now  we  none  of  us  like  to  be  ignominiously 
condemned  as  a  "  type,"  and  Christine's  spirit  was 
aroused. 

"You  haven't  any  pride,  have  you?"  continued 
Marjorie,  thoughtfully.  "  I  wonder  why  you  came 
to  college." 

"I  —  not  have  any  pride ?  /,"  exclaimed  Chris- 
tine, indignantly.  "  What  makes  you  —  how  dare 
you  say  that?" 

"  Why,  most  people  who  are  really  proud,  like  to 
excel  in  the  world  which  they  make  for  themselves," 
explained  Marjorie.  "  Ambitious  girls  like  to  carry 
out  successfully  everything  that  they  undertake." 

"  But  I  am  ambitious,"  protested  Christine.  "  I 
want  to  write  more  than  anything  else  in  the  world  !  " 

"  You  are  willing  to  ride  your  horse,  but  not  to 
feed  him;  is  that  it?"  said  Marjorie.  "Well,  a 
certain  class  of  people  always  go  to  work  in  that 
way." 

"  I  'm  sorry  you  think  I  'm  a  class  and  a  type,"  said 
Christine,  suddenly ;  and  it  surprised  her  to  find  how 
very  sorry  she  actually  was.  Marjorie  was  a  gentle 
little  thing  who  did  not  appear  to  have  much  strength 
of  character.  Why  should  she  care  what  Marjorie 
thought?  And  yet  she  did  care  a  great  deal.  The 
next  few  days  her  lessons  were  perfectly  prepared, 
and  she  rather  expected  that  Marjorie  would  praise 
her  for  this  new  departure ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
Marjorie  seemed  to  take  it  as  a  matter  of  course  that 
her  pupil  should  do  well,  and  confined  her  conversa- 

55 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

tion  to  the  mysteries  of  separable  and  inseparable 
prefixes. 

"  My  dearest  friend  has  been  taken  into  Sigma," 
she  said,  one  afternoon  when  the  German  lesson  had 
been  particularly  successful.  "  We  were  all  so  proud 
of  her,  and  there  was  such  a  delightful  excitement 
when  she  received  the  note." 

"Is  she  a  good  writer?"  asked  Christine  with 
interest,  for  she  could  not  help  respecting  these  two 
literary  societies  which  admitted  no  Freshmen  and 
included  only  the  most  brilliant  members  of  the  three 
upper  classes. 

"  Yes,  she  's  worked  hard  at  her  writing,"  answered 
Marjorie,  significantly,  "  and  she  stands  well  in  other 
things  too.  The  societies  do  not  admit  any  one  who 
is  not  known  to  be  at  least  a  conscientious  student." 

"  Do  you  envy  her?"  asked  Christine,  scornfully; 
and  Marjorie  laughed. 

"  Not  much,"  she  answered  merrily ;  "  you  see,  I 
got  in  before  she  did." 

Christine  looked  somewhat  crestfallen,  but  said 
abruptly,  "  You  don't  wear  any  pin." 

"  No,  there  is  the  best  of  reasons  why  I  should  n't 
wear  a  pin.  But  I  'm  in  Sigma  all  the  same,  although 
I  see  that  you  cannot  associate  members  of  Sigma 
with  makers  of  gym  suits." 

Christine  said  nothing;  but  henceforth  she  under- 
stood that  if  she  wished  to  have  a  place  in  this  new 
world  she  must  earn  it,  and  that  in  college  people 
are  judged  for  themselves  alone. 


CHAPTER  V 

CHRISTINE   BECOMES   GREGARIOUS 

THE  term  fled  away  into  dreary  November,  leaving 
its  golden  mornings  and  crimson  forests  far  behind. 
Hare  and  Hound  parties  were  given  up ;  base  winds 
flipped  papers  out  of  unsuspecting  books,  and  be- 
stowed them  gayly  in  adjacent  mud-puddles.  Every- 
thing turned  brown,  and  whirled  about  in  brown 
shadows  through  brown  days,  and  there  were  a  few 
red  sunsets  that  blew  away  as  fast  as  they  came. 

"  It  is  the  falling  of  the  year,"  said  little  Clare,  as 
she  stood  looking  out  at  the  chill  mountains.  "  Oh, 
I  wish  I  could  see  my  mother !  " 

"  Clare,  Clare,  are  n't  you  coming  in  to  do  German 
with  me?"  called  Ruth  from  the  hall;  and  Clare 
picked  up  her  books,  devoutly  hoping  that  Christine 
would  not  be  in  one  of  her  obstreperous  moods.  A 
few  days  before,  Christine  had  become  exasperated 
by  what  she  called  Clare's  "  lack  of  spirit,"  and  had 
scornfully  insinuated  that  Clare  would  not  dare  to 
call  her  soul  her  own. 

"  Well,  it  is  n't  my  own,"  had  been  the  unexpected 
retort. 

"  Indeed  !  "  with  sarcasm.  "  And  whose  is  it,  then, 
if  I  may  ask?  " 

"  God's !  "  answered  Clare,  with  flashing  eyes. 
"  Now  don't  you  say  another  word  about  it." 

57 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Since  then  Christine  had  decided  that  if  Clare  had 
no  spirit,  she  at  least  possessed  the  courage  of  her 
convictions. 

When  she  came  in,  Ruth  had  already  begun  on  the 
German,  and  Christine  was  throwing  olive-pits  at 
her,  from  the  other  end  of  the  room. 

"  Do  you  see  that  new  picture  of  two  youths  on 
the  table?"  she  asked,  as  Clare  sat  down.  "The 
handsome  one  is  my  brother  Stephen,  and  the  other 
is  Stephen's  chum  at  Harvard  —  a  very  stupid  man. 
Ruth 's  been  engaged  to  him  ever  since  she  was 
three  months  old  and  he  going  on  seven." 

"Oh  —  are  you  really  engaged?"  asked  Clare, 
looking  at  Ruth  with  that  timid  awe  with  which  a 
very  young  girl  regards  another  who  "  has  had 
experience." 

"No,  certainly  not,"  said  Ruth,  indignantly. 
"  Christine,  what  do  you  mean  by  telling  her  such 
things?" 

"Why  don't  you  put  your  mind  on  your  lesson?" 
objected  Christine,  landing  an  olive-pit  in  the  middle 
of  Ruth's  dictionary.  "That's  no  way  to  study. 
They  're  going  to  take  us  to  the  Yale-Harvard  game 
next  week." 

"Won't  it  be  fun?"  said  Ruth,  with  enthusiasm. 
"  If  only  we  can  get  a  chaperon  !  and  Miss  Roberts 
has  almost  promised  to  go." 

"  Why  don't  you  attend  to  the  lesson  ? "  asked 
Christine,  seriously.  "  Clare,  what  do  you  think  of 
my  brother?  " 

"  He  looks  —  very  nice,"  answered  Clare,  slowly, 
for  she  was  not  accustomed  to  young  men,  and  did 
not  quite  know  what  she  ought  to  say  about  him. 

58 


CHRISTINE   BECOMES   GREGARIOUS 

"  He  is  very  nice,"  said  Christine.  "  My  other 
brother,  Henry,  and  this  friend  of  Ruth's,  can't  hold 
a  candle  to  him." 

"  Christine,  you  know  that  is  n't  —  "  began  Ruth 
hastily,  and  suddenly  subsided. 

"  He  composes  things  for  the  organ,"  continued 
Christine,  "  and  paints  everything,  including  his 
clothes  and  the  carpets.  I  shall  make  you  play  to 
him,  when  he  comes  up  for  the  Twenty-second.  You 
won't  be  half  so  much  afraid  of  him  as  you  are  of 
me." 

Clare  looked  annoyed.  "  I  'm  not  afraid  of  you," 
she  began  with  dignity,  and  then  added  truthfully, 
"  at  least,  not  much." 

Christine  laughed.  "Well,  you  can't  expect  me 
to  learn  my  German  while  you  two  are  chattering  at 
this  rate.  I  think  I  '11  go  down  to  college  and  study ; 
so  farewell." 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  have  come  in  here,"  said 
Clare  anxiously,  when  Christine  left  the  room. 

"What  perfect  nonsense  !"  laughed  Ruth.  "You 
know  it  was  Chris  who  did  all  the  talking,  and  she 
often  goes  down  to  college  in  the  afternoon  anyway. 
Do  look  out  verderben  again.  I  Ve  forgotten  what 
it  means." 

"  '  To  spoil,  injure,  destroy '  and  a  lot  of  other 
things,"  read  Clare  from  the  dictionary.  "  Why  do 
you  suppose  Chris  could  n't  have  gone  into  my  room 
to  study?  She  looked  tired  this  afternoon." 

"  She  says  there  's  a  fly  in  your  room  that  sits  on 
her  ear  and  sings,  and  she  does  n't  like  to  annihilate 
him,  because  he  's  your  fly." 

"  I  should  n't  wonder  if  he  's  the  same  one  who  sits 
59 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

on  my  nose  every  morning,  and  makes  personal 
remarks,"  said  Clare.  "  I  wish  she  had  annihilated 
him !  " 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  while  Ruth 
was  frantically  endeavoring  to  collect  the  scattered 
olive-pits,  in  walked  Louise  Burritt,  accompanied 
by  a  friend,  whose  presence  threw  Clare  into  wild 
confusion. 

"  Well,  if  here  is  n't  my  little  runaway  !  "  exclaimed 
Miss  Campbell,  advancing  with  cordial  alacrity. 
"  Look,  Louise,  this  is  the  child  whose  cake  and 
tea  you  consumed.  Does  n't  that  make  you  feel 
guilty,  Miss  Deland?  But  I  didn't  know  you  lived 
here.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  have  n't  set  eyes  on  you 
since  that  Sunday  when  you  did  n't  come." 

She  would  not  have  been  surprised  at  this  if  she 
had  known  that  the  main  object  of  the  two  little 
miscreants  had  been  to  avoid  her. 

"We  were  so  ashamed,"  began  Clare;  but  Miss 
Burritt  broke  in  with  a  laugh. 

"  Don't  begin  to  be  penitent  so  early  in  your 
college  course,  my  child,"  she  said ;  "  Edith  did  n't 
lay  it  up  against  you,  and  we  were  all  particularly 
pleased,  because,  you  see,  it  was  one  on  Edith.  I 
vowed  then  and  there  that  I  would  ask  you  to  Dra- 
matics, so  I  found  out  your  address,  and  brought 
Edith  here  as  a  kind  of  surprise  party.  Was  n't  that 
nice  in  me?  Now  open  your  hands  and  shut  your 
eyes !  "  and  Clare  gasped  with  delight  as  a  significant 
bit  of  pasteboard  fluttered  into  her  lap. 

"  Here  's  another  for  you,  fair  cousin,"  continued 
Miss  Burritt,  presenting  Ruth  with  a  similar  ticket. 
"  And  now  we  must  bid  these  ladies  farewell,  as  we 

60 


CHRISTINE   BECOMES   GREGARIOUS 

have  a  hundred  things  to  do,  and  it  is  very  obvious 
that  they  wish  to  study." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  anything  so  lovely?  "  cried 
the  girls  in  one  breath,  as  the  door  closed  upon  their 
guests ;  but  as  they  spoke,  it  opened  again  to  admit 
the  head  of  Louise  Burritt. 

"  Edith  is  to  be  the  heroine,  and  I  am  the  stiff 
clergyman  who 's  in  love  with  her.  Won't  that  be 
exciting?  "  she  said,  and  before  the  girls  could  answer, 
she  was  gone. 

"  I  wish  Chris  could  have  been  invited  too,"  said 
Ruth,  with  a  little  anxious  expression  stealing  over 
her  face. 

Christine  was  at  that  moment  sitting  by  the  window 
in  the  college  reading-room,  translating  Germels- 
hausen,  while  the  big  shaft  of  the  organ  creaked, 
creaked,  in  sympathy,  and  faint  strains  of  music  crept 
down  from  the  Chapel  above.  Two  girls  came  out 
of  the  Music  Building  and  went  towards  the  Hillard 
House ;  a  young  member  of  the  Faculty  shot  past  on 
his  wheel,  and  dismounted  at  the  Science  Building. 
A  bird  hopped  over  the  brown  grass,  and  pecked  at 
the  fading  lime  which  marked  out  the  tennis  courts, 
but  not  finding  it  toothsome,  possibly  because  he 
had  no  teeth,  flew  away  in  a  rage.  Presently  the 
college  clock  struck  four,  and  the  organ  shaft  re- 
lapsed into  silence,  with  a  long  sigh  of  relief.  The 
girl  who  had  been  practising  came  downstairs,  her 
footsteps  echoing  noisily  through  the  empty  halls, 
and  Christine  realized  that  she  was  due  at  Marjorie's. 

It  was  the  last  lesson  before  her  examination,  and 
all  the  anxiety  that  she  had  secretly  endured  was 
beginning  to  tell  upon  her  strength.  She  was  very 

61 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

pale  that  afternoon,  and  Marjorie  looked  up  with 
quick  sympathy  when  she  came  in. 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  've  been  working  too  hard,"  she 
said,  as  her  pupil  began  the  Erzahlung  of  Ger- 
melshausen.  She  knew  it  all  so  perfectly,  the  poor 
child,  and  conjugated  every  impossible  verb,  declined 
every  insufferable  noun,  without  a  mistake. 

"  It's  what  you  approve  of,  is  n't  it?  "  asked  Chris- 
tine, indifferently.  "  I  did  not  suppose  you  thought 
any  one  could  work  too  hard." 

"No,  it  «#Ywhat  I  approve  of,"  answered  Mar- 
jorie, with  spirit.  "  Overdoing  is  as  bad  as  under- 
doing, and  far  more  dangerous.  One  ought  to  realize 
that  to  know  what  to  remember  is  not  so  important 
as  to  know  what  to  forget !  " 

"Perhaps  that's  why  I  forget  everything,  then," 
said  Christine,  with  a  faint  smile.  "  I  want  to  be  on 
the  safe  side." 

"  Your  examination  comes  to-morrow,  does  n't  it?  " 
asked  Marjorie. 

"  Day  after  to-morrow  at  two  o'clock.  Do  you 
think  that  I  shall  pass,  this  time?" 

The  dreariness  of  her  tone  brought  tears  to  Mar- 
jorie's  eyes. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  Ve  been  wrong,"  she  said,  as  if  think- 
ing aloud,  "  but  how  could  I  help  it?  What  was  I  to 
do?  There  was  no  other  way,  and  yet  I  'm  afraid  it 
was  wrong." 

"  Nobody  has  been  wrong  excepting  me,"  said 
Christine ;  "  and  since  you  have  been  right,  and  I 
have  been  wrong,  I  suppose  it  is  quite  natural  that 
you  should  despise  me." 

"  I  don't  despise  you,"  was  the  quick  reply.  "  No 
62 


CHRISTINE   BECOMES   GREGARIOUS 

one  could  do  that.     I  believe  that  this   failure  will 
turn  out  to  be  your  first  step  towards  success." 

"  In  that  case  would  you  advise  me  to  fail  again?" 

"  That 's  young"  said  Marjorie,  impatiently.  "Ex- 
cuse me,  but  there 's  so  much  greatness  in  you 
it  makes  the  youngness  seem  very  much  out  of 
place." 

"  You  have  made  me  mad  a  number  of  times  by 
your  cold-blooded  speeches,"  said  Christine,  calmly; 
"  but  you  are  a  little  thing,  so  I  Ve  refrained  from 
slaying  you  as  I  would  have  slain  another.  Every- 
thing that  annoys  us  is  good  for  us,  is  n't  it,  Miss 
Drew?" 

"  If  I  Ve  done  you  any  good  by  being  disagreeable 
to  you,  I  suppose  it  was  worth  while,  even  if  it  has 
made  you  dislike  me,"  said  Marjorie,  sadly. 

Christine  said  nothing,  for  she  was  beginning  to 
realize  the  wide  difference  between  Marjorie's  life  and 
her  own.  "  I  know  why  she  does  n't  wear  a  society 
pin,"  she  thought;  "it's  because  she  can't  afford  it." 
And  if  sh'e  had  been  in  the  habit  of  saying  gentle 
things,  she  would  have  said  something  gentle  now, 
but  of  late  years  she  had  taught  herself  that  ten- 
derness implies  weakness,  and  must  therefore  be 
suppressed. 

Meanwhile  Marjorie  was  thinking :  "  Well,  she 
does  dislike  me,  and  I  shall  never  see  her  again. 
There  is  nothing  on  earth  so  trying  as  to  have  to  be 
horrid  to  people  you  care  for,  just  because  it's  good 
for  them !  " 

Christine  had  remained  beyond  her  usual  time,  and 
as  she  rose  to  go,  Elizabeth  Dane  rushed  into  the 
room. 

63 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Oh,  Marjorie,  I  'm  so  hungry,"  she  said,  throwing 
her  books  into  a  corner.  "  Miss  Arnold  will  stay  and 
have  some  tea  with  us,  —  won't  you,  Miss  Arnold? 
I've  been  in  the  Laboratory  all  the  afternoon,  and 
blew  myself  up  four  times.  Behold  these  tortoise- 
shell  spots  on  my  hands  !  HNO3  plus  Spontaneous 
Combustion.  Come,  Miss  Arnold,  you  simply  must 
stay  and  have  some  tea."  And  she  assisted  Christine 
into  a  chair  with  a  gentle  lack  of  ceremony  that  no 
one  could  have  resented. 

Marjorie  made  the  tea,  and  Elizabeth  produced 
some  crackers  from  under  a  bookcase. 

"  Have  you  done  your  Livy  for  to-morrow,  Miss 
Arnold?"  she  asked.  "Because,  if  you  haven't,  I 
warn  you  that  it 's  perfectly  abominable.  I  did  mine 
last  evening  with  Freda  Hastings.  Do  you  know 
Freda  Hastings?" 

Christine  did  not  know  her. 

"  Well,  she 's  the  only  Freshman  in  the  Hadley, 
and  she  's  distinctly  scientific,  —  goes  in  for  bugs  and 
batteries,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  She  went  to 
drive  with  us  Mountain  Day,  and  whenever  we 
stopped  to  admire  the  beautiful  view,  she  would  say, 
'  Girls,  do  you  suppose  there  are  any  snails  here  ? ' 
And  then  she  would  climb  out  and  look  in  every  hole. 
She  has  a  lot  of  snails  already,  and  the  girls  say  you 
can  hear  them  squeaking  and  oozing  around  her 
room  after  dark." 

"  Has  she  a  room-mate?"  inquired  Christine. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  any  girl  would  room  with  her. 
No  one  in  the  house  has  set  foot  in  her  dominions 
since  the  night  when  the  cockroaches  got  out.  She 
kept  them  in  a  ginger-box." 

64 


CHRISTINE   BECOMES  GREGARIOUS 

"And  didn't  they  like  ginger?"  asked  Marjorie, 
laughing. 

"  They  doted  on  ginger.  But  one  night  they 
opened  their  own  box  and  threw  it  on  the  floor,  and 
then  they  stood  up  on  a  chair,  and  shrieked  for  help ; 
but  when  people  came  running  in,  they  were  nowhere 
to  be  seen." 

"  That  was  what  Miss  Carlisle  would  call  '  subtle,'  " 
observed  Marjorie. 

"  Do  you  like  Miss  Carlisle?"  asked  Christine,  who 
had  not  yet  become  interested  in  the  Faculty. 

"Miss  Carlisle  is  the  backbone  of  the  college,  as 
well  as  the  inspiration  of  the  Rhetoric  Department," 
was  the  enthusiastic  response.  "  If  you  're  fond  of 
writing,  Miss  Arnold,  you  must  cultivate  Miss  Car- 
lisle ;  and  if  she  cultivates  you,  you  '11  grow  !  " 

"  Speaking  of  growing,"  said  Elizabeth,  "  these 
gym  suits  are  still  in  a  primitive  state,  and  if  you  will 
pardon  me,  Miss  Arnold,  I  think  I  will  hasten  their 
development." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  noise 
of  the  sewing-machine,  and  as  Marjorie  also  had 
taken  up  her  work,  Christine  thought  it  was  time  to 
depart 

"  You  will  come  again,"  they  both  urged ;  and 
Christine  answered,  "  Indeed  I  will,"  with  a  cordiality 
that  would  have  surprised  her  dearest  friends. 

"  After  all,"  she  thought  bitterly,  as  she  walked 
home  through  the  twilight,  "it  is  not  so  much 
Marjorie  who  despises  me,  as  I  who  am  beginning  to 
despise  myself!  " 

But  Fraulein  Schaf  expressed  so  much  satisfaction 
over  the  results  of  the  examination  that  college 
5  65 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

immediately  assumed  a  more  cheerful  aspect,  and  the 
first  thing  that  Christine  did  was  to  write  a  long 
letter  to  her  father,  telling  him  all  about  it. 

It  was  the  night  of  the  Hillard  House  Dramatics, 
and  Ruth  and  Clare  having  set  forth,  arrayed  in  their 
second-best  gowns,  improved  by  their  very  best 
manners,  Christine  was  sitting  alone  upstairs,  when 
Kathleen  burst  into  the  room  with  a  thundering 
knock. 

"  Christine !  Chris !  It  's  time  to  start  for 
Dramatics !  Come  quick,  or  all  the  best  places  will 
be  gone." 

"  I  have  n't  been  asked  to  Dramatics,  Kathleen, 
and  neither  have  you  —  you  know  you  have  n't !  " 

Kathleen  bent  down  and  whispered  two  significant 
words  in  her  friend's  ear. 

"  Fire-escape  !  "  repeated  Christine,  puzzled  ;  "  do 
people  ever  go  up  there?" 

"  People  will  be  up  there  already  —  everybody  ! 
The  whole  town  ! "  cried  Kathleen,  in  a  crescendo 
howl.  "  Hurry  up  !  Oh,  do  hurry  !  " 

A  little  excited  color  crept  into  Christine's  face,  but 
she  responded  with  dignity,  "  I  could  never  humiliate 
myself  by  going  in  such  a  way." 

"  Everybody  does  it,"  persisted  Kathleen,  dancing 
impatiently  around  the  room.  "  There  is  not  a  light 
in  this  college  but  what  has  expended  its  tallow  at 
some  time  upon  that  fire-escape.  Come,  come,  or  I 
shall  go  alone,  and  eat  up  all  the  peanuts." 

"  Whose  peanuts?  "  asked  Christine,  with  provoking 
deliberation. 

"My  peanuts,  of  course,  Honey.  Whoever  goes 
to  a  show  without  peanuts  ?  I  '11  let  you  feed  the 

66 


CHRISTINE  BECOMES  GREGARIOUS 

ostrich,  if  we  meet  one.  Now  come  along,  and  take 
an  extra  wrap,  for  it  may  be  chilly  in  the  last  act." 

Christine  hesitated ;  but  her  natural  love  of  fun,  and 
a  certain  spirit  of  mischief  which  was  never  far  absent, 
asserted  themselves.  Her  anxiety  about  the  exami- 
nation was  over ;  she  felt  all  the  exhilaration  that 
follows  the  removal  of  a  strain.  Why  should  n't  she 
see  those  Dramatics  from  a  fire-escape? 

The  girls  ran  quickly  down  the  hill,  and  turned 
into  the  campus  from  the  little  street  that  runs  beside 
the  lake,  dodged  trees,  fell  over  hammocks,  and 
finally  brought  up  behind  the  old  Gym,  where  several 
people  had  already  established  themselves  upon  the 
fire-escape.  A  shadowy  foot  hung  conveniently 
within  reach,  and  Kathleen  grasped  it  with  fervor, 
saying,  "  Just  what  we  want ;  quick  now,  pull  your- 
self up  behind  me ;  "  and  the  owner  of  the  foot  stifled 
her  pitiful  cries,  that  she  might  not  disturb  the 
climax  of  the  first  act  The  girls  managed  to  see 
into  the  Gymnasium  very  well,  and  the  back  rows  of 
the  audience  were  too  much  absorbed  in  the  play  to 
notice  these  unbidden  spectators.  But  when  the 
applause  began,  they  were  discovered  by  the  ushers, 
who,  instead  of  resenting  the  intrusion,  handed  out 
programmes,  jested  pleasantly,  and  came  back  to 
converse  with  them  while  the  Banjo  Club  was 
playing. 

Christine  did  not  speak  for  some  time,  but  when  at 
last  she  made  some  comment  on  the  play,  a  hand 
stole  out  from  the  folds  of  a  hooded  figure  near  her, 
and  Elizabeth  Dane  whispered :  "  I  did  n't  expect  to 
see  you  again  so  soon,  Miss  Arnold.  That 's  Freda 
Hastings,  next  you.  She  's  brought  her  favorite 

67 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

snail  with  her,  and  it 's  my  private  belief  that  she 's 
sitting  on  him  !  " 

"  Did  you  pull  off  my  shoe?  "  inquired  Miss  Hast- 
ings, peering  into  the  face  of  a  girl  whom  she  took 
for  Christine,  but  who  was  n't  and  responded  snap- 
pishly: "No,  what  did  I  want  of  your  old  shoe? 
Please  tell  that  girl  up  there  to  stop  throwing  peanut 
shells  down  here." 

None  of  the  little  party  could  recognize  each 
other,  because  it  was  dark  outside,  and  as  the  hall 
was  dimly  lighted,  except  from  the  stage,  it  was  easy 
for  complications  to  arise. 

"  Who  are  you  all,  out  there?  "  whispered  a  pretty 
Senior,  coming  to  the  window,  in  her  dainty  evening 
dress.  "  Ninety-five  girls?  " 

There  was  a  dead  silence. 

"  Well,  do  be  careful  when  you  come  down.  The 
first  time  I  went  up  there,  a  girl  stepped  on  my 
dress,  and  we  both  fell  off  together.  We  were  n't 
hurt,  because  we  fell  on  top  of  another  girl  who  was 
just  coming  up,  but  she  went  home  the  next  day." 

"  Who  is  she?  She  's  been  up  here  too,"  exclaimed 
the  girls  under  their  breath,  as  the  fire-escape  trem- 
bled perilously  with  laughter. 

"That  was  Miss  Elbridge,  the  Senior  President," 
whispered  the  Freshman  nearest  the  window;  and 
the  fire-escape  swelled  beyond  reason  with  righteous 
self-vindication. 

The  play  was  becoming  pathetic  now,  and  the  audi- 
ence in  the  back  row  was  feeling  for  its  handker- 
chief. Kathleen  Carey  was  a  sympathetic  soul,  and 
could  n't  bear  to  see  the  poor  young  clergyman  so 
heartlessly  rejected  by  the  cruel  heroine ;  so  in  search- 

68 


CHRISTINE   BECOMES   GREGARIOUS 

ing  for  her  handkerchief  she  accidentally  pulled  out 
the  peanut  bag  instead,  and  turned  it  upside  down 
upon  the  heads  of  the  audience  in  the  "  pit."  There 
was  a  wild  howl  of  indignation,  a  scuffle,  and  a  com- 
posite sneeze,  before  the  whole  group  on  the  fire-escape 
descended  to  the  earth  with  one  angry  thud,  while 
the  ushers  ran  to  shut  the  windows,  stuffing  their 
handkerchiefs  in  their  mouths  to  keep  from  laughing 
aloud.  The  people  in  the  back  rows  were  suffering 
also,  and  the  wave  of  contagious  giggle  rippled  up 
to  the  very  footlights,  where  it  seized  the  hero  and 
made  him  forget  his  lines. 

" Say  you  love  me  —  quick"  whispered  Edith, 
stepping  on  the  clergyman's  toe. 

"  Ow  !  "  cried  Louise.  "  Oh,  I  love  you  !  "  and  the 
curtain  was  rung  down  to  prevent  further  mishaps. 

"  Those  dreadful  Ninety-five  girls ! "  raged  the 
heroine,  behind  the  scenes.  "  They  've  spoiled  every- 
thing !  Louise,  how  can  you  laugh  so  ? "  and  she 
shook  the  hero  till  his  wig  flapped  wildly  about  his 
ears,  and  his  mustache  lay  upon  the  floor. 

Louise  composed  herself,  and,  picking  up  the 
mustache,  fastened  it  on,  upside  down. 

"  The  class  needs  to  be  suppressed,"  she  said, 
"  and  we  '11  teach  them  a  lesson  at  the  tennis  tourna- 
ment, if  not  before.  I  hear  that  Miss  Senator  Arnold 
is  a  fine  tennis-player,  but  she  may  be  too  haughty  to 
offer  herself  as  a  champion." 

If  they  could  have  seen  the  haughty  champion  at 
that  moment,  their  doubts  would  have  been  dispelled, 
for  the  fire-escape  party  had  plunged  into  the  hollow 
behind  the  Hadley  House  to  avoid  detection,  and 
were  discussing  the  dramatic  beauty  of  the  situation. 

69 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  It 's  quite  proper  that  every  play  should  have  an 
Interlude,"  said  Elsie  Dane,  who  was  taking  Sopho- 
more Lit,  "  and  the  Interlude  was  not  lacking  to 
'  Miss  Hapgood's  Adventures.'  We  made  it !  " 

"  I  think  myself  that  it  much  more  resembled  a 
Miracle,"  said  Kathleen,  rubbing  her  ankle.  "  Come, 
let's  off  to  our  respective  hearths,  before  the  flame 
burns  low." 

"  Or  the  janitor  is  upon  us,"  said  Freda  Hastings, 
who  was  vainly  trying  to  piece  together  the  frag- 
ments of  her  shattered  snail. 

When  Ruth  and  Clare  reached  home,  Christine  was 
in  bed,  with  a  "  Please  don't  disturb  "  sign  out;  and 
on  Kathleen's  door  appeared  a  piece  of  brown  paper 
with  the  inscription,  "  Retired  early.  Please  walk 
softly  through  the  halls  !  " 

"  I  feel  terribly  guilty  to  have  gone  off  without 
them,  don't  you?"  said  Ruth,  advancing  on  tiptoe; 
and  Clare  looked  very  sorrowful,  as  she  answered,  "  I 
think  it  would  have  done  Christine  good  to  go,  and 
she  could  have  had  my  ticket  —  only  I  was  afraid  to 
offer  it,  for  fear  she  would  be  angry." 

A  prodigious  snore  from  Kathleen's  room  made 
them  both  jump,  and  further  conversation  was  post- 
poned until  morning. 


70 


CHAPTER   VI 

OTHER   FESTIVITIES 

"  I  WONDER  how  it  happens  that  I  have  two  Dra- 
matics programmes,"  said  Ruth  the  next  day,  when 
she  was  clearing  up  the  room.  "  I  must  have 
brought  away  some  other  person's  by  mistake." 

"  It  was  very  careless  of  you,"  said  Christine, 
severely,  "  but  very  likely  the  other  person  did  not 
want  it,  so  I  would  n't  grumble  myself  thereover,  as 
the  Germans  say."  She  preferred  to  maintain  a  dis- 
creet silence  with  regard  to  her  own  participation  in 
the  affair,  and  promptly  discouraged  Kathleen's  pro- 
posal that  they  should  write  up  an  account  of  it  in 
a  serial  story  called  "  The  Fire  Escapade,"  for  the 
South  Harland  "  Gazette." 

The  Yale-Harvard  ball  game  at  Springfield  was 
the  next  excitement,  and  when  all  the  crimson  and 
blue  flags  had  been  laid  away  for  the  following  year, 
it  was  time  to  think  about  the  Christmas  holidays. 

A  great  many  girls  had  gone  home  for  Thanks- 
giving, and  others  had  visited  Eastern  relatives,  who 
gave  them  three  helps  of  turkey  all  round,  and  told 
them  how  much  they  had  grown.  Ardis  Hathaway 
went  to  Baltimore ;  Ruth  and  Christine  preferred  to 
remain  at  college,  and  Kathleen,  who  did  not  prefer 
it,  remained  in  spite  of  that  fact,  and  consoled  herself 
by  getting  up  a  dance  in  the  Gym.  Clare  went  home, 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

and  when  her  mother  and  Ethel  met  her  at  the 
Forty-second  Street  Station,  she  felt  that  life  was  too 
beautiful  for  words. 

The  Forty-second  Street  Station  is  a  lively,  lovable 
place  at  vacation  time,  —  so  many  big  thumping 
trunks  from  New  Haven,  South  Harland,  and  a  dozen 
boarding-schools  along  the  line;  so  many  beaming 
fathers,  joyful  mothers,  and  excited  girls,  all  talking  at 
the  same  time,  to  say  nothing  of  the  stately  brothers 
from  Yale,  who  stand  around  looking  supremely  un- 
conscious of  their  latest  society  pins.  There  is  noth- 
ing, after  all,  like  one's  first  vacation.  But  if  college 
people  think  that  it  is  pleasant  to  return,  mothers 
say  that  one  should  know  the  Forty-second  Street 
side  of  the  story,  when  the  long  train  pulls  in  !  And 
then  it  is  so  very  pleasant  to  have  the  Christmas 
vacation  come,  almost  before  one  has  recovered 
from  the  Thanksgiving  dinner. 

Ruth  was  showing  Clare  how  to  embroider  a  sofa- 
pillow  for  her  mother,  and  she  herself  had  made  all 
kinds  of  delightful  contrivances  for  the  children  at 
home. 

"  I  only  hope  mamma  will  like  to  lie  on  this  pillow 
as  much  as  I  hate  to  sew  on  it,"  said  Clare,  as  she 
patiently  pricked  her  little  violin  fingers. 

Christine  never  did  fancy  work,  and  seldom  bought 
any  Christmas  presents  until  the  last  minute,  but  this 
year  she  had  already  made  one  purchase,  and  she 
sent  it  away  just  before  starting  for  Washington.  The 
next  morning  Marjorie  Drew,  who  was  staying  with 
an  old  aunt  in  Hadley,  received  a  note,  and  a  dainty 
box  with  a  Tiffany  stamp  on  the  cover.  They  were 
both  directed  in  the  handwriting  of  her  Freshman 

72 


OTHER   FESTIVITIES 

pupil,    and   the   box   contained   a    beautiful    Sigma 
pin. 

"  I  can't  accept  it  from  her,"  she  thought,  and  then 
she  tore  open  the  note. 

MY  DEAR  LITTLE  TEACHER,  —  Please  do  not  say  that 
you  cannot  keep  my  Christmas  message,  only  because  it 
is  I  who  send  it  to  you.  You  have  done  so  much  more 
for  me  than  you  can  realize,  because  you  have  given  me  a 
new  self  to  go  hand  in  hand  with  the  old  one.  Perhaps,  if 
you  are  ever  inclined  to  be  unhappy  like  other  people,  the 
little  pin  may  remind  you  of  this  verse  by  Emily  Dickinson  : 

"  If  I  can  help  one  fainting  robin 
Unto  his  nest  again, 
I  shall  not  live  in  vain." 

Yours  always  sincerely, 

CHRISTINE  ARNOLD. 

And  Marjorie  put  on  the  pin. 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  be  glad  to  remember  some  day," 
she  said,  touching  it  gently,  "  that  she  was  once  my 
robin." 

It  was  the  Twenty-second  of  February,  and  only 
those  who  have  experienced  it  can  know  what  a  bore 
the  "  old  Twenty-second "  used  to  be.  Everybody 
went  to  it,  and  only  square  dances  were  allowed ; 
but  as  some  of  the  brothers  and  cousins  who  were 
present  had  never  danced  before,  there  was  no  lack 
of  variety  to  the  figures. 

"  Pretty  chumpy-looking  set  of  men,"  observed 
Stephen  Arnold,  with  much  satisfaction ;  and  Chris- 
tine was  furious  because  she  could  not  truthfully 
contradict  him. 

73 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

The  whole  Freshman  class  was  mortified,  and  dis- 
tinctly bored  by  the  proceedings ;  but  it  began  to 
make  plans,  and  continued  to  meditate  upon  them  in 
its  progressive  heart. 

"Isn't  there  anything  wrong  that  you  can  do?" 
asked  George  Slater,  of  Wyckham,  dismally. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Ardis,  with  a  twinkle  of  amuse- 
ment, "  you  can  dance  more  than  once  with  the  same 
girl.  That  will  be  sure  to  call  forth  unpleasing  com- 
ments from  the  Faculty." 

"  Oh,  I  say,"  said  the  Junior,  looking  as  if  he  would 
like  to  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  "  let 's  go  up  to 
the  tower." 

"  It 's  pitch-dark,  and  I  have  on  a  brand-new 
gown." 

"  I  '11  light  a  cigarette,  and  then  we  can  see." 

"  You  want  to  go  up  there  so  that  you  can  smoke, 
I  perceive,"  said  Ardis.  "Well,  I'm  willing  that  you 
should,  if  it  will  make  you  look  less  miserable.  We  'd 
better  go  out  through  the  German-room  door,  as 
there  are  four  Professors  in  the  hall." 

The  stairs  up  to  the  tower  were  winding  and  intri- 
cate, with  ladder-like  apertures,  that  made  climbing 
after  dark  a  precarious  proceeding.  But  the  two 
young  people  reached  the  top  without  accident,  and 
stepped  out  into  the  keen  night  air.  The  roof  was 
covered  with  tin,  which  rebounded  alarmingly  under 
their  feet,  as  Mr.  Slater  stopped  to  throw  his  com- 
panion's evening  wrap  around  her  shoulders.  The 
lights  of  the  town  twinkled  softly  below  them,  and 
the  roofs  of  the  campus  houses  showed  in  angular 
lines  across  the  lawn. 

They  seemed  to  be  very  near  the  sky. 
74 


OTHER   FESTIVITIES 

"  Omar  Khayyam  was  a  clever  old  chap,  was  n't 
he?"  mused  Mr.  Slater,  looking  at  the  stars.  "  Not 
understanding  the  ways  of  things,  he  held  his  life  up 
to  the  light  like  red  wine  in  a  goblet,  and  watched 
the  sun  sparkle  through  it." 

Ardis  congratulated  herself  that  the  sky  had  put 
George  into  one  of  his  most  desirable  moods;  but 
she  was  soon  disillusioned,  for  he  began  telling  her 
about  a  banquet  that  he  had  recently  attended, 
"  where  flat  speeches  fell,  and  lay  like  dead  flies  on 
the  table,  with  their  legs  folded." 

"  That 's  the  worst  of  George,"  a  friend  once  ob- 
served. "  He  says  things  that  make  you  '  wish  you 
were  a  better  man  and  knew  more  hymns,'  and  then, 
before  you  have  shinned  laboriously  up  to  the  pinnacle 
where  he  's  sitting,  he  has  slid  down  the  other  side, 
and  is  giving  you  the  loud  laugh  from  the  ground." 

Ardis  wondered  why  she  was  willing  to  stand  so 
much  from  him,  and  decided  that  it  was  partly  be- 
cause of  his  epigrams,  which  pleased  her,  partly 
because  he  had  asked  her  to  the  Wyckham  Prom, 
and  mostly,  perhaps,  because  he  was  really  very  fond 
of  her.  Then  she  nearly  forgot  him,  in  looking  at 
that  broad  curving  sky,  with  its  distant  melodies  of 
light,  and  felt  as  if  she  too  must  sing. 

"You  really  don't  mind  if  I  smoke?"  asked 
George. 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  said  Ardis ;  "  we  must  go*  back  now, 
or  we  shall  be  missed.  Come !  "  and  they  started 
down  again,  guided  by  an  occasional  match  and  a 
large  amount  of  clever  calculation.  But  just  as  they 
reached  the  great  bell,  it  suddenly  began  to  strike, 
and  the  tower  shook  heavily  with  the  vibrations. 

75 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Ow  !  "  cried  Ardis,  sitting  down  violently  on  the 
steps. 

"Confound  it!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Slater,  plunging 
wildly  forward  into  nothing,  "  I  Ve  turned  my  ankle." 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  called  Ardis,  as  the  deafening  strokes 
went  on.  "  What  did  you  want  to  do  that  for?  " 

"  So  that  I  could  sit  here  all  night,  I  suppose. 
Are  you  up  there?  "  The  bell  stopped. 

"  Yes,  are  you  down  here?  " 

"  Oh,  Lord  !  " 

"  Don't  say  that.  Can't  you  really  go  any 
farther?" 

"  Not  without  a  light.     It's  a  beastly  twist." 

"  If  you  '11  sit  perfectly  still,"  said  Ardis,  gathering 
her  skirts  around  her,  "  I  '11  go  down  and  interview 
your  chum,  Mr.  Lane.  He  '11  come  up  and  get  you." 

"  Not  if  I  know  it !  He 's  over  here  with  the 
Junior  President,  and  there  'd  be  a  woodcut  of  me  in 
the  '  Gazette '  to-morrow.  Have  n't  you  got  a  pull  on 
any  of  the  functionaries?  " 

"The  night  watchman  would  help  us.  I  got  locked 
into  one  of  the  campus  houses  the  other  night,  and 
he  saw  me  getting  out  of  a  window,  and  promised 
not  to  tell.  I  '11  go  find  him." 

"  Say,"  came  in  a  hoarse  whisper  from  the  dark- 
ness, as  she  felt  her  way  down  the  steps,  "  tell  him 
there  's  money  in  it !  " 

Ardis  crept  cautiously  down  two  other  flights  of 
stairs  to  the  main  floor,  ran  quickly  through  the 
empty  corridors,  and  found  the  night  watchman, 
reading  by  the  light  of  his  lantern,  in  the  Latin  room. 
He  smiled  appreciatively  at  the  situation,  and  muffled 
the  lantern  under  his  coat. 

76 


OTHER   FESTIVITIES 

"  I  'm  kinder  feared  they  '11  get  onto  me  when  I 
pass  the  German-room  door,"  he  said.  "  Can't  you 
slide  up  somehow,  and  shut  it?" 

"  I  '11  try,"  said  Ardis  hurriedly,  speeding  back 
through  the  hall. 

She  had  just  succeeded  in  effecting  her  purpose 
without  attracting  attention,  when  Miss  Woodbridge, 
the  Mathematics  Professor,  came  up. 

"  Yes,  it  is  warm,"  she  was  saying  to  one  of  the 
Seniors  ;  "  perhaps,  if  I  open  this  door  it  will  cool  the 
room  off  a  little." 

Ardis  waited  until  Miss  Woodbridge  had  departed, 
and  then  furtively  closed  the  door  again ;  but  unfor- 
tunately the  Professor  happened  to  turn  around  and 
see  her. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Hathaway,  do  leave  that  open,"  she 
said,  coming  back.  "  It 's  terribly  warm  here." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Woodbridge,"  said  Ardis,  desperately, 
"  but  don't  you  think  it 's  dangerous  to  have  such 
a  strong  draught  on  the  girls  after  they  Ve  been 
dancing?"  She  could  hear  the  steps  of  the  night 
watchman  coming  up  the  stairs. 

Miss  Woodbridge  was  over  forty  years  old,  but 
she  still  looked  like  a  girl,  and  possessed,  as  one  of 
her  pupils  said,  "  a  large,  fat,  delightful  sense  of 
humor." 

"Very  likely  you  are  right,"  she  replied  with  a 
peculiar  expression ;  "  it  would  certainly  be  unwise 
to  run  any  risks  in  the  way  of  taking  cold." 

Then  she  considerately  disappeared,  and  Ardis 
thought,  "  I  will  never  cut  Math  again  as  long  as  I 
live  !  "  Mr.  Slater  was  sent  down  to  the  station  in  a 
carriage,  and  the  next  day  a  large  box  of  American 

77 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Beauties  came  for  Ardis,  accompanied  by  two  sig- 
nificant words :  "  Don't  tell !  " 

"  Please  don't  think  I  'd  be  such  a  fool,"  Ardis 
wrote  in  thanking  him.  "  Remember  that  it  was  I 
who  asked  you  over  here  !  " 

Clare  Deland  had  not  invited  a  man  to  the  Twenty- 
second,  for  the  reason  that  she  did  not  know  one 
who  could  come;  but  she  enjoyed  the  evening  im- 
mensely in  spite  of  this,  and  enjoyed  her  talk  with 
Stephen  Arnold  most  of  all. 

"  Chris  tells  me  that  you  're  an  inmate  of  the 
music  world,  Miss  Deland,"  he  said,  when  his  sister 
introduced  them,  "  and  I  hope  that  you  will  take  me 
there  before  I  go,  for  I  Ve  just  retired  from  the 
Pierian  Sodality,  and  feel  like  an  escaped  convict" 

"  You  must  play  to  me  too,"  said  Clare,  laughing, 
"  only  our  piano  is  such  a  wicked  old  thing !  I 
sometimes  think  it's  because  I'm  not  noble  enough 
to  bring  out  the  best  side  of  it." 

"  Do  you  endow  your  instruments  with  personality 
too?  I  never  imagined  that  I  had  the  monopoly  of 
that  nice,  artistic  little  notion ;  but  my  organ  always 
seems  like  a  living  creature  to  me,  and  when  I  'm  in 
a  thundering  mood,  it  won't  have  a  word  to  say. 
Yet  it  "s  better  than  a  piano,  because  a  piano  gets 
mad  at  the  least  little  thing." 

"  I  think  that  some  pianos  get  cross-grained  early, 
because  they  Ve  never  had  any  one  to  understand 
them,"  said  Clare.  "  I  'm  sure  that  I  should  grow 
cynical  if  nobody  ever  played  anything  on  me  but 
'  White  Wings.'" 

"That  is  hard  lines  for  the  Hemp  piano,"  said 
Stephen,  sympathetically.  "  But  you  play  the  violin 

78 


OTHER  FESTIVITIES 

too,  don't  you?  I  think  it  is  a  good  plan  to  get 
acquainted  with  different  instruments,  because  it 
teaches  one  to  speak  a  new  language.  I  tried  learn- 
ing the  flute  once,  but  my  chum  smashed  so  much 
furniture,  throwing  it  at  me,  that  I  had  to  leave  off." 

"  After  all,  the  organ  is  the  grandest  language," 
said  Clare ;  "  it  always  reminds  me  of  great  moun- 
tains, with  snow  peaks  perhaps,  although  I  never  saw 
a  snow  peak." 

"  You  are  thinking  of  the  Jungfrau,  with  a  sunset 
on  it,"  said  Stephen ;  "  when  you  see  that,  you  will 
have  your  music  set  to  words." 

Clare  was  silent  for  a  minute,  and  then  she  said : 
"  I  have  always  wanted  to  go  to  Switzerland.  Some- 
times I  try  to  imagine  how  the  music  goes  climbing 
up  the  mountains,  through  the  tops  of  trees  and  the 
throats  of  birds,  until  the  flowers  gather  it  in,  and  it 
is  only  a  spirit  song." 

"  I  heard  something  just  like  that  once  in  a  pine 
forest,"  said  Stephen,  earnestly;  "  it  was  the  kind  of 
a  song  that  you  — 

"  Stephen,"  said  Christine,  suddenly  appearing, 
"  the  lancers  are  over  long  ago  and  Clare's  next 
partner  is  waiting  for  her !  Do  hurry  up,  or  Miss 
Winter  will  think  you  are  an  extinct  species." 

"  Oh,  come  now,  this  dance  ought  not  to  be  finished 
yet,"  said  Stephen,  rising  with  deliberation ;  "  but 
we  '11  have  a  little  mutual  concert  on  the  hill,  Miss 
Deland,  after  this  unseemly  riot  is  over." 

Clare  always  liked  to  remember  that  conversation 
with  Stephen,  and  the  little  musical  evening  that 
followed  it.  Mr.  Packard,  Ruth's  friend,  contributed 
a  five-pound  box  of  Huyler,  and  an  equivalent  quan- 

79 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

tity  of  funny  Harvard  stories.  The  loquacious  Mrs. 
Hemp  appeared  with  lemonade,  and  was  forcibly 
suppressed  while  Stephen  played  the  "  Moonlight 
Sonata"  and  a  few  exquisite  bits  from  "  Parsifal." 
Then  Clare  brought  her  violin,  and  Stephen  accom- 
panied her  in  the  "  Midsummer  Night's  Dream," 
and  part  of  the  overture  to  "  Lohengrin,"  which  was 
received  with  great  enthusiasm.  The  two  men  talked 
of  the  Bayreuth  Festival,  which  they  had  attended 
the  summer  before,  and  told  some  of  their  thrilling 
experiences  with  the  German  language ;  but  at  this 
point  Christine  abruptly  changed  the  subject. 

On  the  whole,  it  is  very  easy  to  sit  up  late  one 
night,  and  forget  that  such  a  gentleman  as  Horace 
ever  existed ;  but  when  he  appears  the  next  morn- 
ing, with  a  low  bow  and  a  neglected  ode,  it  becomes 
necessary  to  treat  him  with  a  certain  amount  of  con- 
sideration. But  his  brief  absence  has  involved  a 
useful  bit  of  stimulus  from  the  outside  world;  work 
is  resumed  with  increased  vigor,  and  when  Easter 
vacation  comes,  the  hardest  part  of  the  year  is  over. 
One  comes  back  to  beautiful  Spring  term,  with  its 
pushing  bloom,  its  dances  on  the  green,  and  its  out- 
door singings. 

Christine  and  Ardis  went  in  for  the  tennis  tourna- 
ment, and  carried  the  green  banner  victoriously 
through  four  well-played  sets ;  but  when  they  came 
to  Campbell  and  Burritt,  the  successful  champions  of 
two  previous  tournaments,  they  agreed  that  matters 
had  become  serious  indeed.  Would  two  Freshmen 
stand  any  chance  of  winning,  against  such  players  as 
Campbell  and  Burritt? 

"  Fight  for  your  lives  !  "  said  Elsie  Dane,  excitedly ; 
80 


OTHER   FESTIVITIES 

"  they  've  made  up  their  minds  that  we  '11  be  easy  to 
beat,  and  you  two  girls  are  all  that  stand  between 
oblivion  and  Ninety-five  !  " 

An  eager  crowd  had  gathered  around  the  tennis 
court,  impatient  for  the  game  to  continue,  and  the 
two  Freshmen  were  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  enthu- 
siastic classmates,  who  praised,  exhorted,  and  im- 
plored by  turns.  Ardis  and  Christine  looked  at  each 
other  with  sparkling  eyes,  and  their  courage  rose  as 
the  game  began ;  but  Campbell  and  Burritt  had  all 
the  confidence  that  comes  from  the  recollection  of 
many  victories,  and  they  beat  the  first  set. 

"  We  let  them  have  that  one  intentionally,  did  n't 
we?  "  said  Ardis  to  her  partner,  "  because  we  wanted 
to  hold  ourselves  in  reserve." 

Christine  did  not  answer,  but  turned  her  eyes 
toward  the  green  flag  that  floated  at  one  end  of  the 
net.  She  did  not  care  for  college  celebrity,  of  course, 
nor  to  be  identified  too  closely  with  the  interests  of  her 
class ;  but  there  was  something  about  that  green  flag — 

"  All  ready,  Ninety-five  !  "  called  the  umpire ;  and 
the  girls  sprang  to  their  places,  with  the  rackets  bal- 
ancing nervously  in  their  hands,  like  birds.  It  was  a 
very  close  game  this  time,  but  that  back-handed  play 
that  Ardis  had  practised  so  successfully  on  Mrs. 
Hemp's  limited  tennis  court,  made  itself  felt,  and  the 
green  flag  emerged  triumphant  through  a  chorus  of 
cheers,  and  a  perfect  deluge  of  lemonade. 

"  Ninety-five,  Ninety-five,  O  Ninety-five !  "  cried 
the  Freshmen,  joyously;  and  there  was  so  much  en- 
thusiasm that  several  people  who  were  seated  on 
dry-goods  boxes  in  the  suburbs  suddenly  disap- 
peared from  view. 

6  81 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

The  kodaks  were  busy  now,  and  during  the  final 
set  their  ominous  clicks  were  almost  the  only  sound 
that  broke  the  silence. 

"  Thirty-fifteen,  Ninety-three  leads,"  called  the  um- 
pire, "  Thirty  all." 

"  Forty-thirty,  Ninety-five  leads ;  "  and  every  Fresh- 
man pinched  the  arm  of  her  nearest  neighbor  in  wild 
excitement. 

"Deuce  !  "  And  all  the  pinched  neighbors  pinched 
back  again. 

There  was  a  moment  of  terrible  suspense,  and  then 
the  umpire  called,  "  Game  !  Ninety-five  wins  !  "  And 
the  whole  assembly  broke  into  impartial  applause  for 
the  two  plucky  Freshmen  who  had  actually  defeated 
the  champions  of  Ninety-three  !  Christine  and  Ardis 
became  the  heroines  of  the  hour,  and  no  two  people 
were  more  sincere  in  their  congratulations  than 
"Campbell  and  Burritt"  themselves. 

"  I  took  you  to  the  Sophomore  reception,"  said 
Edith,  mournfully,  to  Ardis,  "  and  I  won't  do  it  again." 

"  Miss  Arnold,  I  'm  proud  to  know  you,"  said 
Louise  Burritt,  throwing  down  her  racket  to  shake 
hands  with  Christine.  "  Henceforth  there  shall  be  no 
better  friends  in  the  world  than  the  classes  of  Ninety- 
three  and  Ninety-five." 

"  Cheer  them  !  sing  at  them !  do  anything  to  show 
them  how  we  feel,"  cried  the  President  of  Ninety-five, 
casting  aside  her  official  dignity;  and  at  these  words 
a  large  circle  of  hilarious  Freshmen  joined  hands  to 
dance  around  their  two  classmates,  like  the  frisky 
apprentices  in  the  "  Meistersinger."  The  Glee  Club 
collected  informally,  and  sang  "  Here 's  to  Ninety- 
five,"  which  so  pleased  the  Freshmen  that  they 

82 


OTHER   FESTIVITIES 

responded  with  three  cheers  for  the  Juniors,  and 
Ardis  led  her  class  in  singing  "  Here 's  to  Ninety- 
three,  she  's  the  only  class  for  me,  drink  her  down, 
drink  her  down,  drink  her  down,  down,  down." 

"  We  are  one  in  glory,  if  not  in  philosophy,"  said 
Ardis,  slipping  her  hand  through  Christine's  arm, 
"  and  for  this  reason  I  will  treat  you  to  an  ice-cream 
soda." 

The  next  morning  when  the  Seniors  came  to 
Ethics,  they  observed  that  the  busts  of  Greek  phil- 
osophers around  the  walls  were  decorated  in  a  most 
extraordinary  fashion.  Aristotle  wore  a  green  cravat, 
Plato  had  a  large  bow  on  his  left  ear,  and  Socrates 
looked  very  coy,  in  a  green  sun-bonnet  with  volu- 
minous ruffles,  and  green  strings  tied  tenderly  under 
the  beard.  Some  time  elapsed  before  the  lecture 
could  proceed,  and  subsequent  dark  rumors  were 
circulated,  concerning  the  remarks  that  had  been 
made  that  morning  by  the  class  of  Ninety-two  about 
the  class  of  Ninety-five. 

"  It  is  fortunate  for  many  reasons,  that  we  are  soon 
to  leave  the  college,"  said  the  deaf  Miss  Snow,  turn- 
ing her  "  game "  ear  upon  Kathleen  Carey,  whose 
room  had  been  recently  found  to  contain  certain 
unexplained  shreds  of  green  bunting. 

"  It 's  myself  that  agrees  with  you  in  the  matter," 
answered  Kathleen,  and,  slipping  around  to  the  ear 
that  was  intact,  she  filled  it  with  taunts  of  a  highly 
disrespectful  nature,  including  several  to  the  effect 
that  it  was  safer  for  the  Seniors  to  leave  college 
before  anything  more  serious  happened  to  them, 
because  the  girls  of  Ninety-five  were  tired  of  being 
Freshmen,  and  had  decided  to  become  Sophomores ! 

83 


CHAPTER  VII 

HOW  THEY  BECAME   SOPHOMORES 

"  WHO  's  alive,  who  's  alive  !  Ninety-five,  Ninety- 
fi-i-ve ! "  came  in  a  jubilant  chorus  from  under  the 
Storey  House  windows,  and  a  Junior  upstairs  ob- 
served with  a  sigh, — 

"  They  've  come  back !  " 

"Yes,"  answered  her  room-mate,  sympathetically, 
"  and  they  're  worse  than  they  were  before ; " 
"they"  being  the  Sophomore  class,  which  had 
elected  its  new  President  that  afternoon,  and  was 
now  departing  in  a  body  to  serenade  her. 

This  President  had  been  chosen  for  her  pluck 
and  perseverance,  and  was  one  of  whom  Ninety- 
five  had  reason  to  be  proud.  She  was  a  girl  who  had 
expected,  on  coming  to  college,  that  a  life  which 
began  and  ended  off  the  campus  would  necessarily 
exclude  her  from  positions  of  official  importance  in 
her  class,  and  this  great  honor  had  come  to  her  as 
a  complete  surprise.  She  was  sitting  by  her  window 
that  night,  sewing  braid  on  the  dress  of  an  opulent 
classmate,  and  trying  to  realize  what  it  meant  to  be 
President,  when  suddenly  there  arose,  from  the  front 
yard  of  her  humble  dwelling,  sounds  which  "  savored 
of  sport." 

"  Three  cheers  for  the  President  of  Ninety-five, 
Elizabeth  French  Dane,  Rah  —  Rah  —  Rah,"  sug- 

84 


HOW  THEY   BECAME   SOPHOMORES 

gested  a  voice ;  and  everybody  shared  this  sentiment 
so  enthusiastically,  for  three  deafening  minutes,  that 
old  Mrs.  Barstow,  who  kept  the  house,  put  her  head 
out  of  a  lower  window  and  cried  "  Scat !  "  Elizabeth 
also  put  her  head  out  of  the  window,  but  did  not  com- 
promise herself  with  language  of  such  frigid  brevity. 

"  Speech,  speech !  "  came  in  repeated  demands 
from  below;  and  struggling  to  collect  her  self-posses- 
sion, she  said,  — 

"  Girls,  I  shall  never  forget  the  trust  that  you 
placed  in  me  this  afternoon,  and  —  and  I  will  try  to 
do  the  will  of  every  girl  in  this  class !  " 

It  was  a  rather  pathetic  little  speech,  but  Ninety- 
five  liked  it,  and  having  cheered  her  once  more, 
went  off  singing,  "  Good-night,  Elsie,  good-night, 
Elsie,  we  're  going  to  leave  you  now." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  Marjorie  Drew,  pulling  Elizabeth 
into  the  room  ;  "  that 's  what  comes  of  rooming  with 
a  celebrity.  Henceforth  I  shall  claim  half  of  your 
serenades,  as  damages  for  having  to  stand  the  whole 
of  them  !  " 

"  I  don't  care,  Marjorie,"  said  Elizabeth,  disen- 
tangling her  feet  from  the  braid,  which  had  wound 
itself  neatly  around  her,  "I'm  proud  of  my  class  !  " 

"  And  you  have  reason  to  be,"  was  the  answer,  as 
they  sat  down  again  to  their  work;  but  Elizabeth 
found  it  almost  impossible  to  concentrate  her  mind 
upon  that  skirt  braid  of  the  opulent  classmate. 

"  Everything  is  going  on  at  the  college  to-night," 
she  said  restlessly.  "I'm  too  full  of  something  —  I 
don't  know  what  —  to  sit  still.  Will  you  solemnly 
promise  not  to  touch  that  skirt  if  I  go  out  and  walk 
off  my  excitement?  " 

85 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Marjorie  promised ;   and  Elsie  set  forth,  saying,  — 

"  I  think  I  will  go  up  to  the  Hadley  and  see  if 
Christine  and  Ruth  have  come.  Freda  said  they 
were  expected  this  afternoon,  and  the  little  wretches 
are  already  four  days  late." 

"  Give  my  love  to  Christine,"  called  Marjorie,  as 
the  door  closed ;  but  Elizabeth  did  not  hear.  She 
rushed  out  into  the  clear  September  night,  turned 
the  corner  by  the  Opera  House,  and  ran  swiftly 
across  that  open  space  where  three  roads  converge, 
and  the  electric  cars  swoop  down  with  ostentatious 
creakings  into  the  town  below.  Before  her,  up 
through  dark  rustlings,  stood  the  college,  like  a 
mysterious  shadow  of  its  daily  self,  with  the  ivy 
creeping  into  deeper  shadows  against  it. 

She  went  up  the  sloping  brick  walk,  and  sat  down 
for  a  minute  on  the  steps,  resting  her  cheek  upon  the 
cold  wall  beside  her  as  if  it  had  been  a  living  thing. 
A  little  ivy,  that  had  been  planted  by  girls  who  were 
gone,  stirred  and  rustled  above  her  hair,  and  she 
said,  — 

"Are  you  awake,  you  great  College?  And  do 
you  know  how  hard  I  have  to  work,  only  to  stay 
with  you  ?  Or  are  you  fast  asleep  in  your  shadows, 
and  cannot  understand?" 

There  was  a  stir  in  the  tower  like  a  long-drawn 
breath,  and  suddenly  the  bell  began  to  strike  the  hour. 
It  was  nine  o'clock,  and  there  was  nothing  unusual 
in  that  fact,  but  Elizabeth  felt  that  her  question  had 
been  answered. 

When  she  reached  the  Hadley,  the  windows  of 
Number  2  were  all  ablaze  with  light,  and  trunks  of 
various  sizes  were  scattered  about  in  the  upper  hall. 

86 


HOW  THEY   BECAME   SOPHOMORES 

Sounds  of  unrestrained  merriment  from  behind  a 
certain  door  led  Elizabeth  to  conclude  that  the 
Burlington  girls  had  arrived. 

"  Give  me  that  tack-hammer,  Ardis,"  she  heard 
Christine  say.  "  Well,  what  did  she  do  when  you 
sang  under  her  window?  I  don't  doubt  that  she 
died." 

"You  belie  my  reputation,"  retorted  Kathleen, 
indignantly,  "when  it  is  I  who  was  taken  on  the 
Glee  Club  yesterday,  and  told  that  it  is  well  to 
have  a  giant's  voice,  but  not  to  use  it  like  — " 

"  Come  in,"  called  Ruth ;  and  Elizabeth  walked 
into  the  room. 

"  Hurrah ! "  cried  Kathleen,  extricating  herself 
from  a  group  of  five  girls  on  one  bed ;  "  speak  of  an 
angel  and  you  hear  him  smite  himself  on  a  trunk 
in  the  hall.  Behold  the  President  of  Ninety-five !  " 

Christine  deposited  her  hammer  in  the  water- 
pitcher,  advanced  with  outstretched  hands,  and 
welcomed  Elizabeth  with  the  firm  grip  of  mutual 
understanding.  Ruth  came  and  kissed  her,  Kath- 
leen insisted  on  shaking  hands  again,  and  the  very 
best  sofa-pillow  was  forcibly  wrested  from  another 
damsel  to  decorate  the  presidential  chair.  There 
was  much  joyous  conversation  and  distribution  of 
"ploughed  field,"-  — a  particularly  intellectual  kind 
of  "  fudge  "  which  Freda  Hastings  had  made  as  a 
welcoming  gift  for  the  new  .arrivals. 

When  the  twenty-minutes  bell  rang,  the  little 
company  reluctantly  dispersed,  not  wishing  to  incur 
the  displeasure  of  Miss  Carlisle  by  being  found  on 
her  premises  too  nigh  unto  ten  o'clock,  when  lights 
are  supposed  to  be  out.  They  all  went  downstairs 

87 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

in  a  laughing  group,  and  stopped  for  a  minute  under 
the  window  to  call  up  a  last  "  Good-night "  before 
they  separated  to  go  their  different  ways. 

The  hill  settlement  was  well  scattered  over  the 
campus  this  year,  for  Clare  was  in  the  Marston,  —  one 
of  the  new  dormitories ;  Kathleen  was  rooming  in 
the  Storey,  next  her  friend  Grace  Reade;  Salome 
Judd  and  Rachel  were  in  the  Hillard,  and  Miss  Fair- 
bank  had  a  room  in  the  Warren,  with  Amethyst 
Allen.  There  was  a  strange  new  exhilaration  about 
this  campus  life  that  the  girls  all  liked,  although  they 
were  obliged  to  keep  a  few  simple  rules,  and  have 
canned  salmon  very  often  for  supper.  But  canned 
salmon  is  infinitely  superior  to  chipped  beef,  and  if 
one  does  not  have  chipped  beef  for  breakfast,  it  is 
easy  to  keep  the  rules. 

As  the  largest  part  of  Ninety-five  had  spent  its 
first  year  off  the  campus,  the  two  new  dormitories, 
Lathrop  and  Marston,  were  now  overflowing  with 
lively  Sophomores,  who  stirred  each  other  up  to 
deeds  of  a  daring  and  expressive  nature.  During 
the  first  two  weeks  of  college  the  Marston  indulged 
in  three  dances,  four  spreads,  two  plays,  a  cobweb 
party,  and  a  circus.  But  these  revels  were  not  des- 
tined to  last  throughout  the  year.  Other  matrons 
came  to  call  on  Miss  Timmins,  who  was  an  artistic 
person  with  weak  eyes,  —  and  there  were  no  more 
circuses;  there  was  also  a  dearth  of  spreads  and  a 
cessation  of  dances,  so  the  Marston  collected  its 
shattered  dignity,  together  with  its  budding  talent, 
and  gave  a  concert. 

But  all  these  minor  fetes  were  soon  eclipsed  by  the 
greater  glory  of  the  Sophomore  reception,  which 

88 


HOW  THEY  BECAME   SOPHOMORES 

was  a  truly  grand  affair,  implying  many  decorations, 
and  enough  ice-water  to  last  through  half  the  evening. 
There  were  also  to  be  "  grinds "  for  the  Freshmen, 
although  the  class  of  Ninety-six  was  the  best  behaved 
in  the  world,  and  had  done  nothing  worse,  so  far, 
than  to  chase  eleven  Sophomores  down  the  fire- 
escape  when  they  tried  to  effect  an  entrance  into  the 
first  class-meeting.  It  was  a  shrewd  class,  and  in- 
dulged in  very  few  of  those  little  mistakes  which  are 
awaited  with  peculiar  avidity  by  the  newly  made 
Sophomore.  But  in  spite  of  all  precautions  it  had 
furnished  a  certain  amount  of  material  for  "  grinds  " 
by  nominating  members  of  the  Faculty  and  of  the 
upper  classes  as  candidates  for  its  own  class  offices, 
and  by  serenading  its  President  as  the  Sophomores 
had  done.  This  concert  happened  to  be  attended 
by  the  President  of  the  college  in  person,  and  did 
not  last  so  long  as  a  great  many  concerts  do ;  but  the 
incident  was  dramatically  illustrated  by  the  Grind 
Committee,  and  laid  aside  for  future  reference, 
together  with  another  document  which  was  obtained 
in  the  following  manner. 

Every  Saturday  the  whole  Freshman  class  had  a 
lecture  in  the  old  Gymnasium  at  eleven  o'clock,  and 
the  Sophomores  had  one  at  twelve,  so  it  was  natural 
that  one  class  should  be  coming  out  exactly  as  the 
other  was  going  in ;  and  the  little  stone  walk  which 
led  to  the  Gymnasium  was  very  narrow  indeed.  The 
Sophomores  selected  one  morning  after  a  rain,  when 
the  mud  was  infamously  deep,  and  having  ranged 
themselves  along  that  walk  in  a  compact  battalion, 
waited  for  the  Freshmen  to  emerge.  The  Freshmen 
did  emerge,  and  as  they  departed  with  sideward  skips 

89 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

and  splashes  through  that  villainous  mud,  they  were 
pursued  by  taunts  and  compliments  on  their  agility, 
which  irritated  them  extremely.  But  the  class  as  a 
whole  was  too  dignified  to  show  its  feelings,  and 
merely  went  home  to  change  its  shoes. 

After  the  next  lecture,  which  came  a  week  later, 
one  of  the  Sophomores  discovered  this  paper  reclin- 
ing under  a  vacant  chair,  and  promptly  sequestered  it. 

"  To  THE  CLASS  OF  '96  !     TAKE  WARNING  ! !  ! 
"  It  is  rumored  that  the  Sophomores  intend  to  make  us 
walk  in  the  mud  again  to-day.     Keep  close  together,  as  we 
go  out,  and  charge  upon  them  in  a  body.     Await  signal  at 
door.     (Please  read,  and  pass  along.)  " 

A  copy  of  this  document,  tastefully  arranged  with 
sealing-wax  and  red  ribbon,  was  presented  to  each 
member  of  the  Freshman  class  on  the  night  of  the 
Sophomore  reception. 

The  hill  contingent  of  Ninety-five  had  held  several 
violent  altercations  with  regard  to  the  people  whom 
they  wished  to  invite, —  Ruth  and  Kathleen  having 
decided  upon  the  same  girl,  from  the  day  when  she 
first  entered  chapel,  and  Christine  insisting  that  she 
would  not  take  any  Freshman  who  did  not  wear 
green  mitts.  But  after  this  agitating  affair  was  over, 
and  amity,  together  with  all  the  borrowed  sofa-pillows, 
had  been  restored,  the  class  of  Ninety-five  evolved  a 
festivity  which  made  all  other  festivities  appear  trivial 
and  superficial. 

One  morning  the  President  gave  a  patriotic  address 
on  the  subject  of  Columbus,  and  the  benefit  that 
America  had  derived  from  being  discovered.  It 
seemed  that  the  following  day  was  the  anniversary  of 

90 


HOW  THEY  BECAME   SOPHOMORES 

that  great  event ;  but  as  land  had  been  sighted  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  it  appeared  that  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning  would  be  the  correct  time  for  a  cele- 
bration. Now,  this  was  a  joke ;  but  some  of  the  girls 
preferred  to  take  it  seriously,  and  plans  for  a  suitable 
celebration  were  communicated  to  all  the  campus 
houses,  so  that  abundant  preparations  could  be 
made. 

As  the  celebration  of  an  historical  event  demands 
chronological  accuracy,  the  stillness  of  that  night 
was  shattered,  at  the  stroke  of  two,  by  the  blast  of  a 
horn  from  a  Hillard  House  window.  This  was  the 
signal  for  a  grand  patriotic  uprising,  and  lights  imme- 
diately flashed  in  other  windows.  Smaller  horns 
tooted  in  derision  at  outraged  sleep,  and  firecrackers 
went  off  on  the  Marston  House  green.  Impromptu 
processions  of  gray-wrappered  patriots  sailed  through 
the  dormitory  parlors,  with  comb  orchestras  and  tin 
pans;  national  airs  rang  out  from  every  campus 
piano,  and  loyal  voices  joined  in  "  Hail  Columbia," 
"  Rally  round  the  Flag,  Boys,"  and  "  Marching  through 
Georgia,"  until  the  town  of  South  Harland  woke  up. 
It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  Faculty  had  been  awake 
for  some  time,  and  that  their  attitude  was  one  of 
surprise.  Some  of  them  said  that  it  was  "  abomi- 
nable," "  insufferable,"  and  others  retired  to  their 
rooms  to  laugh ;  but  all  came  to  the  rescue  at  last, 
and  the  disturbance  was  quelled. 

In  the  morning  it  was  rumored  that  the  President 
had  stood  by  his  window  and  said,  "  Ah,  well,  well ! 
it  makes  me  think  of  when  I  was  a  boy ;  "  but  after- 
wards these  rumors  were  sternly  contradicted,  and  it 
was  said  that  on  second  thoughts  he  had  become 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

very  angry.  There  was  an  immensely  large  attend- 
ance at  chapel  that  day,  and  people  waited  breath- 
lessly after  the  exercises  to  see  if  the  President  would 
make  a  speech. 

He  did ! 

But  all  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Sending  of 
Maria  Grumbagg,  which  was  a  private  affair,  and 
much  more  select.  It  began  with  reading  Kipling, 
and  ended  with  the  night  of  All  Hallow  E'en,  when 
nobody  pretends  to  be  well-behaved. 

Maria  Grumbagg  was  a  Senior  who  lived  in  the 
Storey  House,  and  she  had  been  heard  to  observe 
that  the  class  of  Ninety-five  was  an  unmitigated 
nuisance.  She  had  also  dropped  a  boot  into  a  plate 
of  ploughed  field  that  had  been  put  outside  the  win- 
dow under  hers  to  cool,  and  Kathleen  insisted  that 
she  did  it  on  purpose;  so  it  was  agreed  that  she 
should  have  a  "  Sending."  But  young  kittens,  to 
begin  with,  were  very  scarce,  and  Christine,  who 
loved  cats,  said  that  she  would  not  have  anything  to 
do  with  the  "Sending"  if  young  kittens  were  used; 
so  it  was  suggested  that  frogs  were  abundant  on  the 
back  campus,  and  that  mice  could  be  caught  in  the 
President's  barn.  A  butterfly-net  and  a  "  catch-'em- 
alive  "  trap  were  bought,  and  a  few  days  later  Maria 
Grumbagg  found  this  notice  on  her  door:  — 

"  On  the  2  gth  day  of  this  month,  which  is  to  say  two  days 
before  that  Fete  known  to  us  as  All  Hallow  E'en,  you, 
Maria  Lucilla  Grumbagg,  member  of  the  Senior  Class  in 
this  College,  shall  be  visited  with  a  Sending ! " 

Maria  thought  that  this  was  very  funny,  and  took 
it  down  to  paste  in  her  memorabilia ;  but  when  the 

92 


HOW  THEY  BECAME   SOPHOMORES 

appointed  time  came  she  was  absorbed  in  a  Psychol- 
ogy paper,  and  had  forgotten  all  about  the  Sending, 
which,  however,  did  not  forget  her !  It  darted  out  of 
the  waste-paper  basket  that  evening  when  she  came 
up  from  supper,  and  scampered  away  in  three  differ- 
ent directions,  while  she  was  feeling  for  a  match. 

"  Help  !  Murder  !  Mice  !  ! !  "  shrieked  Maria, 
climbing  into  a  chair ;  but  nobody  came  to  her  aid, 
and  she  was  obliged  to  find  that  match  with  the 
Sending  scudding  about  the  floor.  Finally  it  dis- 
appeared into  the  hall,  and  Maria  sat  down  at  her 
desk  to  write,  but  was  suddenly  alarmed  by  a  violent 
thump  under  her  pen,  followed  by  a  wriggling  sound. 
She  shut  up  the  desk,  took  her  umbrella,  and  stand- 
ing at  a  discreet  distance,  hooked  open  the  drawer, 
expecting  to  see  more  mice ;  but  no  mice  responded. 
Instead  of  mice  there  was  a  flash  of  smooth  white 
shininess,  of  moist  greenness,  and  a  frog  descended 
upon  the  umbrella,  two  inches  away  from  her  hand. 
She  stepped  to  the  window  and  opened  the  umbrella 
suddenly,  so  that  the  frog  might  descend  once  more, 
and  then  she  went  downstairs  to  Mrs.  Halifax.  Un- 
fortunately Maria  was  no  favorite  with  the  matron, 
because  she  was  always  complaining  of  something, 
and  Mrs.  Halifax  hastily  dismissed  the  frog  incident 
as  "  some  little  prank,"  which  it  undoubtedly  was. 

On  the  following  day  Maria  found  a  notice  to  this 
effect  upon  her  door :  - — 

"  To-night  there  shall  be  five  mice  and  two  frogs ;  to- 
morrow there  shall  be  four  frogs  and  two  mice ;  on  the  day 
following  there  shall  be  nine  frogs  and  no  mice,  and  after 
that  there  shall  be  no  more  Sending  !  " 

93 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

All  of  these  frogs  and  mice  did  not  come  true, 
because  Maria  kept  her  door  locked ;  but  there  are 
ways  of  introducing  frogs,  even  through  locked 
doors,  and  on  the  night  of  All  Hallow  E'en  there 
were  seven  frogs  in  Maria's  room.  These  numbered 
two  less  than  had  been  promised;  but  Maria  strove 
to  be  content,  and  maintained  a  respectful  attitude 
toward  the  ploughed  field  of  the  Sophomores  through- 
out the  remainder  of  that  year. 

All  Hallow  E'en,  the  night  on  which  Maria  en- 
joyed her  last  Sending,  is  the  most  delightful  night 
of  the  year  at  this  particular  college.  There  is  an 
entertainment  of  some  kind  at  every  house,  and  the 
whole  campus  goes  visiting  in  masks  and  dominoes. 
But  they  are  not  the  kind  of  dominoes  that  one  sees 
at  Nice  and  Rome;  these  collegiate  costumes  com- 
bine a  greater  variety  of  form  and  color,  resulting 
from  the  fact  that  they  are  not  bought,  but  have  to 
be  evolved.  When  crossing  the  campus  after  dark, 
one  encounters  black  witches  with  spooky  caps  and 
glittering  white  eyes,  red  devils  in  curly  shoes, 
ghosts  and  policemen,  flowers  and  pussy-cats,  and 
characters  from  every  book  that  ever  was  written. 
Some  of  the  matrons  provide  apples  and  water  for 
the  witch  assembly ;  and  one  very  nice  matron,  whose 
memory  the  alumnae  will  always  cherish,  used  to  pro- 
vide gingersnaps  as  well. 

The  Sophomores  had  not  neglected  to  make 
special  arrangements  for  this  evening,  and  their  first 
plan  was  centred  upon  a  play  that  was  to  be  given 
in  the  Storey  House  parlors  at  eight  o'clock.  The 
plan  had  been  originated  by  Grace  Reade,  who  was 
a  demure  maiden  with  a  spirit  of  mischief  running 

94 


HOW  THEY  BECAME   SOPHOMORES 

through  her  like  a  current  of  electricity.  She  sug- 
gested things  to  do,  and  Kathleen  did  them ;  then 
they  took  the  consequences  together,  divided  them 
by  two,  and  gave  what  was  left  to  their  friends. 

When  the  fun  began,  these  two  conspirators 
arrayed  themselves  in  twilight  colors,  and  stealing 
down  the  back  stairs,  let  in  two  tall  figures  in  black, 
one  in  white,  and  a  mysterious  little  mouse  in  gray. 
All  the  Storey  House  girls  were  in  the  parlor,  and 
Kathleen  led  her  friends  softly  through  the  vacant 
halls  to  her  own  room,  where  the  necessary  instruc- 
tions were  imparted. 

"  Ardis,  you  and  Clare  go  into  Chapter  4  "  —  the 
rooms  in  the  Storey  House  were  always  referred  to 
as  Chapters, —  "Christine  and  Ruth  into  7,  and, 
Grace,  you  stay  here.  I  '11  go  into  Belle  Bovey's 
room,  where  I  can  blow,  and  hear  what  goes  on  too. 
Now  go  softly,  and  blow  hard" 

Some  one  had  told  Grace  that  if  a  few  people  blew 
into  the  gas-pipes  for  a  certain  length  of  time,  the 
gas  all  over  a  house  would  go  out,  and  the  girls 
wished  to  test  the  truth  of  this  experiment.  They 
blew  and  blew  unceasingly,  but  still  the  sounds  of 
revelry  rose  with  undiminished  vigor  from  below. 

"  I  'm  absolutely  out  of  breath,"  gasped  Ruth  from 
her  room.  "  We  can't  keep  this  up  forever." 

"  The  linings  of  my  cheeks  have  given  way,"  an- 
swered Christine,  calmly,  "  but  I  continue  to  blow." 

Suddenly  there  was  a  cessation  in  the  mirth  down- 
stairs, followed  by  an  anxious  murmur,  which  termi- 
nated in  a  general  excitement.  The  gas-blowers  then 
descended  into  the  midst  of  a  laughing,  stumbling 
crowd,  battling  about  in  absolute  darkness,  and  with- 

95 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

out  waiting  to  hear  the  apologies  of  poor  Mrs.  Hali- 
fax, who  would  "  send  for  a  plumber  immediately," 
departed  to  attend  a  dance  which  was  being  given  at 
the  Warren. 

After  that  they  repaired  to  the  Marston,  to  collect 
materials  for  a  new  kind  of  ghost,  which  was  to  take 
the  campus  by  storm.  There  were  many  ghosts 
abroad  that  night,  —  terrible  creatures  which  shot  up 
to  an  extraordinary  height  as  one  approached,  and 
then  collapsed  again;  but  this  new  creation  would 
entirely  eclipse  the  old-fashioned  telescopic  phantom, 
for  this  was  to  be  the  ghost  of  an  elephant !  Kath- 
leen was  afraid  that  it  might  be  taken  for  a  live 
white  elephant,  but  Christine  assured  her  that  any 
person  of  judgment  would  know  it  was  the  ghost  of 
a  dead  gray  elephant,  who  used  to  take  prehistoric 
baths  in  the  landscape  gardening.  Christine  had 
dislocated  her  shoulder  the  summer  before,  and  was 
therefore  unwilling  to  take  any  part  in  the  elephant, 
although  she  was  badly  needed  for  the  left  hind  leg. 
But  she  atoned  for  her  incapacity  in  this  direction, 
by  promising  to  be  the  noise  that  the  elephant  made 
when  he  chased  people.  Clare  was  too  little  to  be 
an  active  member,  so  she  was  allowed  to  be  the  man 
who  walks  beside  the  elephant,  and  hooks  him  by  the 
ear. 

When  the  disjointed  beast  was  ready  to  start,  it 
advanced  in  an  ambling  shuffle  up  the  Marston 
House  road,  and  halted  behind  the  Warren  to  await 
victims.  Soon  footsteps  were  heard  approaching, 
and  almost  before  the  two  dark  figures  had  turned 
the  corner,  the  elephant  charged  upon  them,  urged 
on  by  strange  unearthly  sounds,  and  guided  by 

96 


HOW  THEY  BECAME   SOPHOMORES 

one  flapping  ear.  There  was  a  moment  of  utter 
consternation,  in  which  the  elephant  man  departed, 
taking  the  elephant's  ear  with  him.  Then  one  of  the 
figures  turned  around  and  said  sternly,  "Young 
ladies !  "  It  was  the  President  and  Dr.  Page,  who 
had  been  taking  a  little  moonlight  stroll  around  the 
campus. 

When  the  elephant  returned  later  in  the  evening  to 
collect  its  abandoned  epidermis,  together  with  its  one 
paper  ear,  it  was  time  for  the  original  elements  to 
retire,  and  they  slipped  into  their  various  homes, 
feeling  that  the  evening  had  been  a  success. 

"  There  is  nothing  like  All  Hallow  E'en !  "  said 
Christine,  as  she  and  Ruth  settled  themselves  for  the 
night. 

"Isn't  that  moonlight  on  the  floor  beautiful?" 
observed  Ruth,  who  had  a  romantic  turn  of  mind. 
"  It  only  needs  some  water  to  be  reflected  in,  to 
make  it  perfect." 

Christine  solemnly  rose  from  her  bed. 

"  I  will  supply  that  deficiency  with  modern 
science,"  she  said,  and  filling  a  wash-bowl,  she  set  it 
carefully  beside  the  window  on  a  chair.  Then  they 
lay  and  admired  it,  until  the  silver  light  tangled  itself 
in  a  dream,  and  when  the  witches  looked  in  through 
the  window  on  their  midnight  rounds,  they  were  both 
fast  asleep ! 


97 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A   SONG  AND   A   SORROW 

WHEN  Clare  found  that  Ardis  Hathaway  was  to 
be  in  the  same  house  with  her  that  winter,  she  was 
overjoyed,  and  said  to  herself,  "  Now  perhaps  I  shall 
really  get  acquainted  with  her,  and  she  will  let  me  be 
her  friend." 

She  envied  Christine,  who  knew  Ardis  well  enough 
to  laugh  and  joke  with  her,  and  even  to  contradict 
what  she  said.  And  in  the  Marston  Ardis  reigned 
supreme.  There  was  no  one  else  who  told  such 
funny  stories,  no  one  who  knew  so  well  the  right 
thing  to  do,  or  who  could  look  so  beautiful  while 
doing  it.  But  Clare  was  far  too  shy  to  make  any 
advances  toward  the  people  whom  she  wished  to 
know,  and  although  she  and  Ardis  met  often  in  the 
rooms  of  other  girls,  Ardis  regarded  her  as  a  merely 
inoffensive  little  thing  who  roomed  in  the  same  house 
with  Christine  Freshman  year,  and  never  thought  of 
seeking  her  for  a  friend. 

Meanwhile  Clare's  musical  powers  were  becoming 
more  and  more  in  demand,  for  people  had  discovered 
that  she  could  play  the  piano  as  well  as  the  violin, 
and  it  was  said  that  she  knew  the  organ  too,  —  a 
rumor  which  arose  from  the  fact  that  Clare,  like 
other  musical  girls,  would  always  attack  any  instru- 
ment that  she  could  find.  The  violin  was  still  her 

98 


A  SONG  AND   A   SORROW 

dearest  friend,  but  she  seldom  found  any  one  who 
could  play  her  accompaniments  well,  and  a  bad 
accompaniment  has  a  peculiar  badness  of  its  own, 
which  all  other  evil  sounds  have  struggled  in  vain  to 
acquire.  So  it  was  not  long  before  Clare  allowed 
the  violin  to  take  protracted  naps  under  her  bed, 
while  she  cultivated  the  acquaintance  of  the  Marston 
House  piano,  which  was  a  new,  happy  little  piano  that 
seemed  to  like  her. 

She  began  with  playing  hymns  for  the  Sunday  morn- 
ins  exercises  ;  then  she  launched  off  into  dance  music 

o  * 

for  the  various  house  entertainments,  and  very  soon 
she  fell  into  the  habit  of  giving  little  concerts  all  by  her- 
self, which  were  attended  by  an  informal  but  wholly 
respectful  audience.  Every  Sunday,  after  dinner,  she 
was  expected  to  play,  and  if  by  chance  she  slipped 
off  to  her  room  before  any  one  saw  her,  she  was  in- 
variably followed  and  brought  down  again.  When 
she  took  her  place  at  the  piano,  the  girls  would  all 
assemble  in  the  parlor,  the  company  and  first  comers 
appropriating  the  chairs,  and  the  rest  sitting  meekly 
on  the  floor.  Other  people  from  outside  would  steal 
in,  one  by  one,  until  the  room  was  full ;  and  although 
Clare  did  not  hear  them  come,  she  knew  when  they 
were  there,  and  it  seemed  as  if  new  melodies  sprang 
up  beside  the  singing  path  she  wandered  on.  No 
one  ever  spoke  while  she  was  playing,  and  that  sweet 
hush  of  sympathy  surrounded  her  like  the  atmos- 
phere of  a  happy  world,  in  which  sunbeams  took  the 
place  of  fingers,  and  turned  themselves  to  chords. 

But  of  all  the  people  who  listened  to  Clare's  music, 
there  was  no  one  who  loved  it  better  than  Ardis,  who 
was  a  musician  herself,  and  it  was  to  Ardis  that  Clare 

99 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

spoke  oftenest  when  she  played.  Perhaps  Ardis  un- 
derstood this,  for  she  would  leave  whatever  she  was 
doing,  and  stand  beside  the  piano  until  Clare  had 
finished ;  and  then  she  would  say,  "  Now,  Miss  Deland, 
think  a  little  while  in  music,  and  let  me  see  if  I  can 
tell  what  you  are  thinking  about." 

Clare  always  enjoyed  improvising,  and  one  day 
Ardis  said,  "  You  were  thinking  about  me,  then,  and 
that  you  cannot  quite  understand  me." 

Clare  laughed,  and  answered,  "  Yes,  you  were  right. 
But  why  won't  you  let  me  understand  you  ?  " 

This  was  the  beginning  of  their  friendship,  which, 
like  many  other  college  cross-currents,  was  a  strange 
one. 

Clare  made  Ardis  sing  to  her,  and  learned  the 
accompaniments  to  her  songs,  so  that  they  could 
"  do"  them  together,  without  notes,  when  asked;  but 
Ardis  was  curiously  unwilling  to  sing  before  people, 
although  she  and  Clare  used  to  practise  for  hours 
together  in  the  Music  Building,  and  tried  all  kinds  of 
experiments  with  the  unfortunate  organ  in  the  corner 
room :  this  was  not  entirely  satisfactory,  however,  as 
it  obliged  the  prima  donna  to  pump  and  sing  at 
the  same  time. 

One  evening  she  and  Clare  effected  an  entrance 
into  College  Hall,  which  was  empty  and  dark  and  a 
glorious  place  to  sing  in,  but  the  janitor  pursued  them 
so  wrathfully  with  a  lantern  that  they  were  forced  to 
depart.  The  next  time  they  asked  his  permission, 
and  he  said  that  they  might  sing  there  for  half  an 
hour,  if  they  would  use  but  one  gas-jet;  so  they 
agreed  to  the  conditions,  and  felt  their  way  up  the 
dark  stairs  in  triumph.  Clare  patted  the  closed  organ 

100 


A   SONG  AND   A   SORROW 

with  longing  hands,  but,  knowing  that  she  must  not 
touch,  was  forced  to  content  herself  with  a  piano. 
Their  one  dim  light  could  not  stir  the  heavy  shadows 
in  the  Chapel,  and  the  little  concert  was  practically 
given  in  the  dark.  But  Clare  did  hot  mind  playing 
in  the  dark,  and  Ardis  said  afterwards,  — 

"  I  would  always  rather  sing  with  only  you  and 
those  shadows  to  hear  me  !  " 

She  had  an  exaggerated  terror  of  showing  her 
feelings,  and  knowing  that  music  cannot  be  music 
unless  one  gives  it  all  that  one  has,  preferred  to 
remain  silent  altogether,  adopting  the  cheerful  role  of 
bird  who  can  sing  and  won't  sing,  but  whom  every- 
body loves  too  well  to  make  sing.  Music  was  really 
the  only  thing  that  the  two  girls  had  in  common, 
although  the  younger  one  did  not  know  this,  and 
sometimes,  when  Ardis  was  talking  and  laughing  with 
her  friends,  would  wonder  if  she  could  be  the  same 
Ardis  who  had  sung  into  the  shadows  that  night. 
Clare  knew  that  Ardis  liked  to  stay  with  her  when 
she  was  tired  of  other  people,  because  she  would 
sometimes  come  into  the  room,  and  sit  moodily  by 
the  window  for  an  hour  without  saying  a  word ;  but 
when  she  rose  to  go,  she  would  tell  Clare  that  she  felt 
a  great  deal  better.  One  day  she  came  in  after  din- 
ner, and  taking  Clare  up  in  her  arms  as  if  she  had 
been  a  child,  sat  down  with  her  in  a  big  rocking- 
chair. 

"  Clare,"  she  asked  suddenly,  "  do  you  remember 
anything  about  God?  " 

"Remember  anything  about —  Ardis,  what  do 
you  mean  ? " 

"  Oh,  you  are  different  from  the  rest  of  us,  and  I 
101 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

thought  perhaps  you  might  remember ;  but  it  does  n't 
make  any  difference." 

She  seemed  disappointed. 

"  Ardis,  why  will  you  always  insist  that  I  am  so 
different  from  you  ?  "  asked  Clare,  in  distress.  "  You 
shut  me  away  from  you,  and  when  I  ask  why,  you 
only  say  it  is  because  I  am  different !  " 

Ardis  put  her  friend  down  on  the  bed  very  softly, 
and  went  out  of  the  room  without  answering  the 
question. 

"Now,  what  in  the  world  can  I  do  with  her?" 
puzzled  Clare.  "  She  puts  me  outside  of  the  pale  of 
humanity  as  if  I  were  a  monkey,  —  an  undesirable, 
ordinary  monkey,  that  is  incapable  of  understanding 
the  simplest  human  emotion  !  " 

Most  of  the  girls  considered  Ardis  utterly  devoid  of 
feeling,  for  the  reason  that  her  face  never  changed, 
and  no  one  could  ever  tell  what  went  on  behind 
those  mysterious  eyes.  But  her  feelings  would  reveal 
themselves  in  unexpected  ways;  and  Clare,  who 
studied  her  with  the  peculiar  insight,  varied  of 
course  by  the  singular  obtuseness,  that  love  can 
give,  learned  to  understand  her  better  than  other 
people  did. 

On  the  first  Monday  after  Thanksgiving,  Ardis  was 
taken  into  the  Phi  Delta  Kappa  Society,  which  was 
even  more  literary  than  Sigma;  and  although  this 
was  the  realization  of  one  of  her  most  cherished 
ambitions,  she  maintained  a  happy  serenity  through 
it  all  that  amazed  her  friends. 

"Why,  Ardis,  aren't  you  pleased?"  asked  one  of 
the  many  girls  who  stopped  on  her  way  to  chapel 
to  offer  their  congratulations;  and  Ardis,  whose 

102 


A   SONG  AND   A   SORROW 

hope  and  dream  of  happiness  had,  for  more  than 
a  year,  been  centred  in  those  societies,  answered 
quietly, — 

"  Of  course  I  am  delighted." 

Clare  looked  at  her  curiously,  and  thought,  "  Why 
does  n't  she  tell  them  how  happy  she  is?  "  not  under- 
standing that  the  gentle  art  of  dissimulation  acts  like 
a  magpie,  in  concealing  trivial  articles  along  with 
those  of  greater  importance. 

Elizabeth  Dane,  also,  had  been  chosen  for  Phi  Delta 
Kappa,  and  being  one  of  the  first  two  Ninety-five 
girls  to  gain  that  distinction,  was  suitably  and  pro- 
portionately agitated. 

"  It  takes  only  five  black-balls  to  keep  a  person 
out,"  she  whispered  to  Clare  during  the  hymn. 
"  How  do  you  suppose  I  got  in?" 

When  Ardis  came  out  of  chapel,  Christine  was 
waiting  for  her  at  the  door  of  the  German  room,  and 
looked  most  enthusiastic ;  but  just  as  she  was  about 
to  speak,  a  Phi  Delta  Kappa  Senior  came  up  to  shake 
hands  with  the  new  member,  and  Ardis  turned  her 
back  upon  Christine  in  a  way  which  was  rude,  to  say 
the  least.  She  had  no  reason  for  doing  this,  and 
at  first  Christine  was  too  astonished  to  be  angry,  but, 
soon  recalling  that  omission,  departed  with  much 
dignity.  While  she  was  taking  her  books  from  the 
little  front  corridor  downstairs,  Ardis  appeared,  with 
cordiality  upon  her  countenance. 

"  Maude  Gilbert  has  lent  me  her  Phi  Delta  Kappa 
pin,"  she  said,  "  and  I  wanted  you  to  admire  it.  You 
see,  this  whole  business  pleases  me,  because  it 's  a 
good  beginning;  and  good  beginnings  often  precede 
good  endings, — just  as,  when  you  spill  soup  on  the 

103 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

front  breadth  of  a  dress,  the  whole  memt  is  sure  to 
follow  in  time." 

"  Ardis,"  said  Christine,  seizing  her  firmly  by  the 
wrist,  "  why  did  you  eschew  me  in  that  extraordinary 
manner  a  few  minutes  ago?  I  came  upstairs  to  be 
festive  with  you,  and  you  were  not  festive." 

"  I  was  waiting  to  be  festive  in  private,"  explained 
Ardis,  quickly;  "but  do  fix  your  critical  eye  upon 
my  —  I  mean  Maude's  pin,  and  see  if  it  is  n't 
becoming." 

Christine  looked  at  the  significant  little  white  and 
gold  thing  with  its  dainty  pearl,  and  said  slowly,  "  It 
means  a  great  deal,  Ardis." 

This  was  the  first  college  experience  that  they  had 
not  shared  in  common,  and,  in  spite  of  their  warm 
friendship,  both  felt  that  the  little  pin  had  made  a 
tiny  barrier  between  them.  They  stood  looking  at 
each  other  in  silence  for  a  minute,  and  then  Ardis 
said,  "  O  Christabel !  "  and  throwing  her  arms  around 
Christine's  neck,  she  gave  her  an  impulsive  kiss, 
which  surprised  herself  no  less  than  it  did  her  friend. 
But  unhappily  Christine  did  not  like  to  be  kissed, 
and  thought  that  sympathy  under  the  circumstances 
was  objectionable;  so  she  turned  resentfully  away, 
trying  to  reconcile  these  last  two  sides  of  Ardis  with 
the  ten  or  fifteen  that  she  already  knew.  Ardis  did 
not  show  that  she  was  hurt,  although  her  eyes  dark- 
ened perceptibly;  and  Christine  never  knew  quite 
how  much  love  had  been  offered —  and  misunder- 
stood, in  that  kiss. 

The  next  week  Ruth  Burritt  and  Edith  Standish 
were  taken  into  Sigma,  and  Christine  was  sincerely 
pleased  about  Ruth,  but  experienced  the  feeling  that 

104 


many  of  us  have  when  we  see  a  number  of  other 
people  getting  what  we  want  most  of  all !  For  a 
few  days  she  was  so  cross  that  her  friends  found  it 
difficult  to  live  with  her,  and  then  Miss  Carlisle 
took  her  in  hand  and  restored  her  to  good  nature 
again. 

Ardis  had  not  been  to  the  Hadley  since  that  event- 
ful morning  of  Phi  Delta  Kappa,  and  was  devoting 
her  spare  time  to  Clare,  who  knew  how  to  appreciate 
the  value  of  such  attentions. 

One  day  there  was  a  first-soprano  vacancy  in  the 
Glee  Club,  and  several  of  the  girls,  including  Ardis 
and  Kathleen,  were  very  anxious  that  Clare  should 
try  for  it. 

"  The  Glee  Club  is  more  fun  than  anything  else  in 
college,  Miss  Deland,"  said  one  of  its  loyal  members 
who  had  come  over  to  argue  the  matter.  "  We  get 
in  at  ever  so  many  of  the  house  dramatics,  and  are 
asked  to  all  kinds  of  funny  performances  in  the  town 
besides." 

"  We  don't  always  accept,  though,"  said  Kathleen 
pensively,  closing  one  eye.  "  There  was  a  time, 
before  I  came  on  the  Club,  when  we  used  to  sing  for 
cake  and  coffee.  But  now  we  do  not  sing  for  any- 
thing less  than  oysters  !  " 

"  I  do  wish  you  would  try  for  it,  Miss  Deland," 
said  Virginia  Paul,  a  first  soprano  who  knew  what  it 
meant  to  have  another  first  soprano  gone.  "  You 
don't  need  to  be  afraid  of  Ethel  Lindsay  at  all, 
because  she  is  nearly  always  civil  to  new-comers." 

Miss  Lindsay,  the  Leader  of  the  Club,  was  an  auto- 
cratic young  lady,  who  ruled  her  girls  with  a  rod  of 
iron,  and  occasionally  engaged  them  in  little  mutual 

105 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

expostulations,  which  were  vulgarly  referred  to,  by 
ignorant  persons,  as  rows. 

"  I  'm  afraid  she  would  not  think  of  taking  me," 
said  Clare ;  "  you  see  I  have  n't  a  very  big  voice." 

"  We    don't   want    big   voices,"   explained   Ardis. 
"  The  necessity  is  to  find  voices  that  will  blend  with 
each  other,  without  showing  any  dividing  lines,  — 
like  a  picture,  you  know ;  and  I  think  that  your  voice 
is  just  what  Ethel  will  know  she  needs." 

"  Dear  Ethel !  "  said  Kathleen,  with  affection.  "  It 
is  myself  alone  that  knows  what  she  's  called  me  at 
certain  times,  —  and  at  other  times  too." 

"Has  she  such  a  bad  temper?"  asked  Clare 
anxiously,  for  she  was  not  used  to  people  of  that 
description,  and  did  not  feel  quite  sure  how  she 
should  get  along  with  them. 

"  Miss  Lindsay  is  a  very  bright  girl,"  answered 
Ardis,  "  and  understands  that  there  is  no  one  in  the 
college  who  could  take  her  place  on  the  Club,  so  she 
carries  things  with  a  high  hand." 

"She  has  an  exceptional  amount  of  talent,  too," 
said  Miss  Paul,  "  but  she  has  also  an  exceptional  way 
of  telling  us  what  to  do,  so  that  when  she  says,  '  Sing 
pianissimo  in  this  passage,'  we  all  have  an  irresistible 
desire  to  shriek  through  it,  just  to  assert  our  in- 
dependence." 

"  And  sometimes  we  do,"  added  Kathleen,  thought- 
fully, "  7  do  !  " 

"  I  should  think,"  ventured  Clare,  "  that  a  girl  in 
that  position  might  have  a  great  deal  of  influence  in 
the  college,  —  that  is,  if  she  chose  to  exert  it." 

"  She  exerts  herself  in  obtaining  what  she  calls  her 
rights,"  said  Ardis,  grimly ;  "  and  she  is  fond  of  tell- 

106 


A  SONG  AND   A   SORROW 

ing  us  that  she  hopes  we  know  who  is  the  head  of 
that  Club." 

"  Dear  me !  "  said  Clare,  in  alarm,  "  I  shall  never 
dare  to  sing  before  her." 

"  One  night  after  rehearsal,"  continued  Ardis,  "  I 
took  her  by  the  sleeve,  and  said,  '  Miss  Lindsay,  it 
is  true  that  you  have  your  rights,  and  we  have  ours ; 
but  one  right  that  belongs  equally  to  every  person  in 
this  Club  is  that  of  hearing  civil  language,  and  I  should 
suggest  that  we  help  each  other  to  maintain  it !  ' ' 

The  girls  drew  a  long  breath,  and  somebody  asked 
what  Miss  Lindsay  had  to  say  to  that. 

"  Well,  I  could  n't  think  of  telling  you  all  that  she 
said,"  answered  Ardis,  with  a  smile ;  "  but  the  fact 
remains  that  we  've  been  good  friends  ever  since,  and 
I'm  going  to  take  Clare  over  to  her  this  afternoon." 

Clare  did  not  want  to  go  at  all,  but  when  the  time 
came,  she  found  the  ordeal  much  easier  than  she  had 
expected.  Miss  Lindsay  was  a  handsome,  high- 
spirited  girl,  with  a  wilful  mouth,  and  a  fine  touch  on 
the  piano,  which  aroused  Clare's  admiration  imme- 
diately. The  usual  examination  in  scales,  intervals, 
and  sight-reading  was  successfully  passed,  and  then 
Clare  was  asked  to  try  a  song  —  which  would  practi- 
cally decide  the  question  of  her  admission  to  the 
Club.  Ardis  had  told  her  what  to  do  ;  so,  instead  of 
producing  any  music,  she  went  to  the  piano  and 
played  her  own  accompaniment  to  a  little  song 
which  she  had  written  several  years  before  coming  to 
college.  Miss  Lindsay  was  delighted,  and  when 
Ardis  explained  that  Clare  had  composed  it  herself, 
she  turned  to  her  Music  Committee,  saying  quickly, 
"Don't  you  think  —  " 

107 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  That  she  's  exactly  what  we  want?  "  broke  in  one 
of  the  girls,  enthusiastically.  "  Yes,  I  do  !  " 

Miss  Lindsay  laughed  and  said,  "  It  is  entirely 
against  our  principles  to  take  any  one  without  the 
second  trial,  Miss  Deland,  but  we  have  heard  of  you 
before,  you  see,  and  —  well,  I  think  you  had  better 
come  to  rehearsal  on  Monday  night." 

"  Oh !  "  cried  Clare,  with  a  delighted  jump ;  and 
when  the  other  Club  members  had  shaken  hands 
with  her,  she  went  up  to  Miss  Lindsay  in  her  own 
little-girl  fashion,  and  said,  "  I  will  try  to  be  good !  " 

The  tempestuous  Ethel  must  have  found  something 
encouraging  in  this  beginning,  for  there  was  less  fric- 
tion in  the  Club  from  that  time  on,  and  there  were 
people  who  said  that  the  new  soprano  had  acted  as 
a  peacemaker  between  the  Leader  and  her  girls. 

Miss  Lindsay  lived  in  Waverley,  a  large  town  about 
half  an  hour  by  train  from  South  Harland;  and  one 
day,  not  long  before  the  Christmas  vacation,  she 
invited  Clare  and  Ardis  to  come  there  for  an  organ 
concert  which  was  to  be  given  in  one  of  the  churches. 
They  were  to  take  dinner  with  her  afterwards,  and 
start  for  home  early  in  the  evening;  so  the  matron 
gave  her  consent,  and  the  two  Sophomores  worked 
hard  that  morning  to  get  their  studying  done. 

Ardis  had  a  business  meeting  of  Phi  Delta  Kappa 
at  two  o'clock,  and  Clare  waited  for  her  in  the  Read- 
ing Room,  so  that  they  should  lose  no  time  in 
reaching  the  station.  It  was  a  strange  .unwintry 
afternoon,  with  a  certain  crossness  about  the  ele- 
ments that  comes  when  a  really  cold  and  stormy  day 
has  made  up  its  mind  not  to  snow.  Ardis  held  her 
sable  muff  against  her  face  as  they  walked  down 

1 08 


A   SONG  AND   A   SORROW 

Main  Street,  and  Clare  flew  along  beside  her  like  a 
happy  brown  bird.  She  was  so  glad  that  they  were 
going  to  Waverley,  and  felt  like  talking  every  minute ; 
but  when  they  had  established  themselves  in  the 
train,  Ardis  would  persist  in  looking  out  of  the  win- 
dow. She  continued  to  look  out  of  the  window, 
although  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  but  shivering 
trees,  and  great  wastes  of  stiffened  grass,  with  ice- 
pools  frozen  blue  and  hard. 

"  Ardis,"  said  Clare,  at  last,  "  what  would  you  rather 
be,  if  you  could  be  the  one  thing  in  the  world  that 
you  most  want  to?" 

Ardis  rubbed  a  little  steam  off  the  window  with 
her  handkerchief,  and  answered,  "  I  think  I  would 
rather  be  a  dispenser  of  other  people's  time." 

"  What  a  useful  kind  of  dispensary  to  set  up ! 
Had  you  thought  of  making  it  a  charitable  or  a  pay- 
ing institution?  " 

"  I  should,  of  course,  have  certain  hours  set  aside 
for  charity  patients,"  said  Ardis;  and  then  she 
looked  out  of  the  window  again. 

"  Well,"  continued  Clare  impatiently,  after  a  pro- 
tracted pause,  "  why  don't  you  ask  me  what  /would 
like  to  be,  most  of  all?  It's  only  decently  polite, 
after  my  asking  you." 

"  I  do  not  ask,"  said  Ardis,  lightly,  "  because  I 
know.  But  I  do  not  think  you  would  succeed  as  a 
musical  composer.  You  were  meant  to  be  a  clinging 
vine." 

"  Ardis,  what  do  you  mean?  You  know  that  I  am 
not  a  clinging  vine." 

"  I  know  that  you  are  —  a  clinging  vine." 

"  You  're  a  donkey,  Ardis." 
109 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  It  is  n't  pretty  to  call  barnyard  names." 

"  It  is  still  more  hideous  to  make  perfectly  abom- 
inable speeches.  You  had  better  look  out  of  the 
window  again." 

"  Christine  said,"  observed  Ardis  in  a  few  minutes, 
as  if  speaking  to  herself,  "  that  Clare  had  a  quick 
temper !  How  strange  it  was  that  Christine  could 
have  thought  such  a  thing !  " 

Clare  meditated  upon  this  in  resentful  surprise,  and 
finally  came  to  the  conclusion  that  she  had  not  often 
had  a  quick  temper  at  home,  because  there  very  little 
had  been  said  or  done  to  irritate  her.  Being  delicate, 
she  had  always  been  tenderly  cared  for,  and  spared 
in  every  way.  "  So  now,"  she  thought,  "  I  must  get 
used  to  having  people  say  things  that  I  do  not  like, 
and  to  not  saying  things  that  they  do  not  like  in 
return.  I  don't  believe  it  "11  work,  though." 

When  the  girls  reached  Waverley,  Ethel  met  them 
at  the  station,  and  they  drove  up  to  the  church  in 
high  spirits,  Ardis  talking  gayly,  and  Clare  in  raptures 
over  the  organ  programme  which  Ethel  had  brought 
down  to  show  them. 

"  This  is  the  finest  organ  for  miles  around,"  said 
Miss  Lindsay,  as  they  entered  the  church,  "  and  Mr. 
Boyd  says  that  Clare  may  play  on  it  afterwards  if  she 
wants  to.  How  do  you  like  that,  Clare?"  and  she 
laughed  at  the  joyous  look  which  her  two  visitors 
exchanged. 

It  was  very  beautiful  sitting  there,  with  the 
shadows  growing  deeper  every  minute,  and  the  red 
glow  from  the  stained-glass  windows  fading  gradually 
into  dusk.  There  was  a  great  bowl  of  roses  on  the 
chancel  rail,  and  for  years  afterwards  Clare  associated 

no 


A   SONG  AND   A   SORROW 

the  scent  of  them  with  the  sound  of  an  organ.  Mr. 
Boyd  had  chosen  a  Bach  Toccata  for  the  opening 
number,  and  his  first  vigorous  chord  sprang  through 
the  church  like  a  light,  pouring  its  golden  shaft  of 
tone  down  the  great  aisles,  and  dying  away  in  fantas- 
tic flickerings  of  sound.  Clare  thought  that  she  saw 
him  enthroned  as  in  a  warmer  glow  of  melody,  with 
bright  sparks  whirling  from  under  his  fingers,  and 
music  beams  around  his  head. 

"Ardis,"  she  whispered  softly,  when  the  Toccata 
was  finished,  "  this  is  one  of  the  things  that  we  are 
going  to  remember  !  " 

When  all  the  people  had  left  the  church,  Ethel 
took  her  two  friends  up  to  the  gallery,  and  introduced 
them  to  Mr.  Boyd,  who  stopped  hunting  through  a 
pile  of  music,  to  give  them  a  cordial  welcome. 

"  So  this  is  the  little  organist,  is  it?  "  he  said,  shak- 
ing hands  with  Clare.  "  Just  run  your  fingers  over 
her  a  minute,  and  see  if  you  ever  felt  an  easier 
action." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  really  play  the  organ,"  protested 
Clare,  in  alarm ;  "  I  only  love  it,  you  know.  And 
then  sometimes  I  dream  that  I  'm  playing  on  a  big 
one,  and  it 's  terrible  to  wake  up !  " 

"  Let 's  not  have  any  waking  up  to-night,  then," 
was  the  friendly  answer.  "  Just  run  your  feet  over 
her  pedals,  and  see  if  you  ever  felt  anything  like 
her  in  your  life.  She's  considered  the  finest  in 
Massachusetts." 

Clare  .touched  one  of  the  notes  with  the  end  of  her 
little  finger,  and  the  organ  responded  with  a  great 
roar,  which  thundered  down  the  deserted  aisles, 
turned  around,  and  came  back  again. 

in 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  I  think  I  'm  afraid  of  her,"  she  said,  looking 
doubtfully  at  the  organist.  "  Does  she  often  make 
a  noise  like  that?  " 

"  That  was  her  biggest  pipe,"  answered  Mr.  Boyd, 
proudly.  "  His  Christian  name  is  the  Fire  Engine, 
and  I  never  use  him  except  when  people  stay  too 
long  after  service." 

"  Do  play  that  Nevin  '  Love  Song,'  Clare,"  said 
Ardis,  "  and  the  little  Grieg  thing  that  I  like." 

Mr.  Boyd  showed  her  how  to  arrange  the  stops, 
and  then  she  began  to  play,  rather  tremulously  at 
first,  but  gaining  confidence  as  the  great  thing  stirred 
beneath  her  touch,  then  waked,  and  followed  at  her 
bidding. 

"  She  has  a  wonderful  knack  at  managing  her," 
said  Mr.  Boyd,  ambiguously.  "  To  tell  the  truth,  she 
generally  dislikes  strangers,  and  tries  to  get  even 
with  'em  in  all  kinds  of  ways.  Oh,  Miss  Lindsay,  my 
wife  wants  to  know  if  you  '11  step  into  the  vestry,  and 
see  her  about  that  song  for  Christmas  Eve.  It  won't 
take  but  a  minute,  and  the  young  ladies  will  excuse 
us,  I  know." 

The  young  ladies  were  quite  willing  to  excuse 
them ;  and  when  they  had  disappeared,  Clare  turned 
around  on  the  organ-bench,  saying,  "  Now,  Ardis,  now, 
the  '  Lost  Chord'  before  any  one  comes  back.  We'll 
never  have  such  another  chance."  And  she  began 
to  play  the  beautiful  introduction  which  she  had 
arranged  from  a  part  of  the  overture  to  "  Lohengrin." 

Ardis  had  not  intended  to  sing;  but  the  great 
empty  church  and  the  great  wonderful  organ  car- 
ried her  into  the  music  against  her  will.  And  as  she 
sang,  her  voice  did  not  seem  to  be  a  part  of  herself, 

112 


A  SONG   AND   A   SORROW 

but  came  from  some  outer  sphere  of  melody  where 
she  had  never  been,  and  curled  around  her  like 
smoke-wreaths,  until  she  could  not  hear  for  the 
echoes.  At  first  it  was  joyous,  because  of  the  pure 
joy  of  singing ;  then  a  burden  had  crept  into  it,  from 
the  trouble  which  Ardis  was  carrying  in  her  heart, 
and  at  last  it  became  one  cry  for  understanding,  to 
the  God  who  had  made  her  as  she  was,  and  placed 
her,  all  helpless,  in  a  great  unhelping  world. 

"  Ardis,  my  dear  one,"  said  little  Clare,  with  a  sob, 
as  the  music  came  to  an  end,  "  what  is  the  matter?" 

"  The  acoustic  properties  of  this  church  are  very 
fine,  are  n't  they?  "  observed  Ardis,  calmly*  "  I  wish 
that  our  chapel  were  half  as  good." 

"  You  really  ought  to  go  in  for  oratorio,  Miss 
Hathaway,"  said  Mr.  Boyd,  who  had  been  listening 
from  the  door,  "  or,  with  proper  training,  you  could 
take  a  position  on  the  stage.  There  's  a  fortune  in 
that  voice,  if  you  take  care  of  it  —  emotion,  dramatic 
expression,  and  all  that —  Oh,  must  you  go?  Well, 
I  'm  sorry,  but  come  again  soon,  whenever  you  want 
to,  and  Miss  Deland  shall  play  on  her  as  long  as  she 
likes.  Oh,  not  at  all,  don't  mention  it  —  Glad  you 
enjoyed  it;"  and  presently  the  girls  were  borne  off 
by  Ethel  to  a  pleasant  home  evening,  with  a  beautiful 
home  dinner,  which  included  everything,  from  spicy 
pickles  to  cranberry  sauce. 

"  I  wonder  if  people  who  love  music  always  love 
to  eat,"  philosophized  Clare,  as  she  and  Ardis  ex- 
changed another  pathetically  happy  glance  over  the 
dinner.  And  Ethel  replied,  with  a  comical  look, — 

"  Mr.  Boyd  says  that,  next  to  Bach,  he  loves  apple- 
dumplings;  so  I  think  we  are  justified  in  associating 
8  113 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

dinner  with  art.  Come,  Ardis,  you  know  that  you 
could  contain  another  piece  of  turkey!"  And  the 
evening  passed  so  pleasantly  that  when  eight  o'clock 
came  the  girls  felt  really  sorry  to  go. 

"  It  has  been  the  very  nicest  of  all  days !  "  said 
Clare  to  her  hostess ;  and  after  they  were  in  the  train 
she  told  Ardis  that  she  could  not  understand  why 
people  found  so  much  to  criticise  in  Ethel  Lindsay. 

When  they  reached  home,  Ardis  asked  Clare  to 
come  into  her  room  for  a  few  minutes,  and  while 
they  were  sitting  in  the  dark,  she  said,  "  Clare,  if  you 
thought  that  I  had  ever  done  anything  mean  or  —  or 
dishonorable,  what  would  you  say  to  me?  " 

"  I  should  say  that  it  was  n't  true,"  was  the  staunch 
reply,  "  because  I  don't  believe  that  you  could  do 
anything  mean  or  dishonorable." 

"  But  if  you  knew  that  I  was  dishonorable  —  if  I 
were  put  in  jail  for  stealing,  or  something  like  that  — 
what  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  would  go  to  you  and  put  my  arms  around  you," 
said  Clare,  simply.  "What  else  could  I  do?" 

Ardis  got  up  and  walked  over  to  the  window. 

"  My  head  aches,  Clare,"  she  said,  throwing  her  hat 
on  the  bed.  "  Help  me  to  get  out  these  miserable  shell 
pins ;  "  and  she  shook  down  the  long  troublesome  hair 
until  it  lay,  like  a  darker  shadow,  upon  the  shadows 
of  the  floor.  "  Now  go  to  bed,  you  little  thing,"  she 
said  very  gently ;  "  you  know  that  you  're  tired." 

"  I  will  not  go  until  you  tell  me  what  is  troubling 
you,"  said  Clare ;  and  then  something  told  her  that 
it  would  be  of  no  use  to  stay.  "  Good-night,  my  loved 
one,"  she  whispered,  and  slipped  away  to  her  own 
room. 

114 


A   SONG  AND   A   SORROW 

There  was  much  to  be  told  in  her  prayers  that 
night,  much  about  the  music  that  she  had  heard, 
about  the  flowers  in  the  church,  and  about  that 
whole  beautiful  day.  There  was  Ardis,  too;  and 
when  she  looked  up,  she  saw  that  Ardis  was  standing 
beside  her.  She  had  crept  in  without  a  sound,  and 
would  have  looked  like  a  little  ghost  in  her  white 
wrapper,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  long,  wonderful 
hair  which  folded  her  in  like  dark  wings. 

"  Clare,  you  silly  child,"  she  said  with  the  tears  in 
her  eyes,  "  do  you  really  believe  that  your  philosophy 
of  friendship  includes  constancy  unto  death?" 

Clare  pushed  back  that  soft  shadow  from  the  face 
of  her  friend,  smiled  a  little  sadly,  and  answered: 
"  Unto  death !  " 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE   BASKET-BALL   GAME 

IT  was  a  dazzling,  snow-dancing  afternoon  in 
March,  and  Kathleen  Carey  was  promenading  up  and 
down  the  Storey  House  walk  with  a  hot  apple-pie 
under  her  arm. 

"  What  have  you  got  there,  Kaddy?"  called  Grace 
Reade  from  an  upper  window.  "  I  am  really  inter- 
ested to  know." 

"  You  can't  have  it,"  said  Kathleen,  walking 
rapidly  away  in  another  direction;  and  Grace  saw 
that  she  must  resort  to  strategy  if  she  wished  to  gain 
possession  of  that  pie. 

"  Kathleen,  come  here,  you  —  Kathleen,  have  you 
heard  what  Chris  found  out  last  night  about  the 
Freshman  team?  " 

Kathleen  turned  slowly  around,  and  began  to  re- 
trace her  steps  with  reluctance  in  every  movement. 

"Well,  no,  I  hadn't,"  she  answered.  "But  take 
heed  what  you  tell  me,  for  I  'm  casting  a  fierce,  sus- 
picious eye  upon  you." 

"  Come  up  nearer  to  the  house,"  said  Grace,  mys- 
teriously; "  I  don't  want  any  one  to  hear." 

Kathleen  glanced  lovingly  at  the  circular  package 
in  her  arms,  and  not  wishing  to  involve  it  in  icicle- 
drippings  from  the  roof,  set  it  down  very  carefully  on 
a  huge  snow-bank  at  the  edge  of  the  walk. 

116 


THE   BASKET-BALL  GAME 

"  There  is  no  one  in  sight,"  she  muttered,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  listen  with  eagerness,  while  Grace  explained 
the  details  of  a  certain  new  dodge  which  the  Fresh- 
men were  preparing  for  the  basket-ball  game.  Both 
she  and  Grace  were  on  the  Sophomore  team,  and 
there  had  been  many  exciting  discussions  concerning 
the  merits  of  either  side,  because  this  game  —  the 
great  athletic  test  of  the  year  —  was  to  take  place  on 
the  following  day.  Every  participating  Sophomore 
had  a  green  cheese-cloth  '95  sewed  on  the  blouse  of 
her  gym  suit,  and  a  strip  of  the  same  color  around 
one  arm.  The  Freshmen  wore  the  same  decorations 
in  violet,  but  with  a  '96,  of  course,  instead  of  a  '95, 
and  many  of  them  said  that  the  '96  was  confusing, 
because  it  prevented  them  from  knowing  when  the 
gym  suits  were  upside  down.  Belle  Bovey  was  Cap- 
tain of  the  Freshman  team,  and  Christine  Arnold  of 
the  Sophomore ;  she  was  winning  a  fine  athletic  repu- 
tation for  the  class  that  wore  the  green,  and  Miss  Car- 
lisle was  glad  to  have  her  undertake  the  work,  because 
it  kept  her  happy  and  actively  employed  during  cer- 
tain outside  hours  which  otherwise  might  have  been 
given  to  unprofitable  meditation. 

There  was  to  be  a  game  that  night,  in  which  the 
"  regulars "  were  to  play  the  substitute  team,  and 
Chris  would  provide  some  remarkable  anti-play  for 
this  new  throw  of  the  Freshmen  that  might  prove 
destructive  to  the  Sophomore  laurels.  Grace  rolled 
her  handkerchief  into  a  ball,  and  tossed  it  down  on 
Kathleen's  hand,  to  illustrate  the  Freshman  secret ; 
and  Kathleen,  not  liking  practical  illustrations,  turned 
around  with  dignity  to  pick  up  her  pie, —  but  no  pie 
was  to  be  seen. 

117 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Grace,  you  double-faced,"  she  began,  and  then 
suddenly  espied  a  round  hole  on  the  snow-bank  into 
which  the  warm  pie  had  mysteriously  disappeared, 
having  previously  buried  itself  in  a  mass  of  sympa- 
thetic slush.  She  cast  irate  glances  at  the  window, 
from  which  issued  sounds  of  mockery  and  mirth,  dug 
out  her  pie,  and  went  off  to  the  swimming-tank  to  eat 
it.  The  swimming-tank  was  at  this  time  a  compact 
little  cellar  of  stone,  with  a  tiled  floor;  but,  lacking 
the  one  element  most  essential  to  aquatic  achieve- 
ments, it  was  used  as  a  rendezvous  by  members  of  the 
Athletic  Association,  and  other  people  who  liked  to 
study  in  a  low  temperature. 

Kathleen  found  the  captain  and  the  sub-captain  of 
her  team  sitting  on  the  brick  wall  of  the  tank,  with 
their  slippered  feet  dangling  gayly  into  its  arid 
depths. 

"  What  have  you  got  on  your  gym  suits  for?  "  she 
asked  in  alarm.  "  Have  some  pie?" 

"  Thanks,"  said  Ardis.  "  We  Ve  been  having  a 
little  private  practice  upstairs  by  ourselves,  Christine 
personating  the  Sophomore  team  and  I  the  Fresh- 
man. I  beat  her." 

"It's  a  bad  omen,"  said  the  captain,  kicking  off 
one  slipper  into  the  tank.  "  There,  Ardis,  you  can 
go  down  and  pick  that  up." 

"  I  certainly  won't,"  said  Ardis,  amiably.  "  Have 
some  of  Kathleen's  pie." 

"  Leonora  Kent  has  turned  her  ankle  !  "  said  Chris- 
tine, gloomily.  "  What  do  you  think  of  that?  " 

"  Why,"  said  Kathleen,  beginning  to  cut  up  her 
pie  with  a  visiting-card,  "  I  think  she  had  better 
invest  in  a  cork  leg." 

u8 


THE   BASKET-BALL  GAME 

"  There  is  no  one  else  who  can  get  the  ball  into 
the  basket  as  Leonora  does,"  said  Christine,  seriously. 
"  Kathleen,  this  is  no  joking  matter !  Whom  shall  I 
appoint  in  her  place?" 

"Myself,"  answered  Kathleen,  serenely.  "I  will* 
volunteer  my  services." 

"To  tell  the  truth,  we  had  already  thought  of 
you,"  said  Christine,  "  and  we  will  now  consider  it 
settled.  You  may  take  Leonora's  place  to-night." 

"  That 's  another  pair  of  sleeves !  "  cried  Kathleen, 
in  terror.  "  I  certainly  won't  take  it  or  attempt  to  take 
it.  I  never  got  the  ball  in  the  basket  more  than  once 
in  my  life,  and  that  was  because  another  girl  ran  into 
me  from  behind.  Oh,  miserable  day !  Oh,  sad 
mishap !  No,  you  don't  find  me  making  a  fool  of 
myself  in  public,  after  all  the  private  affairs  of  the 
same  kind  with  which  we  are  familiar." 

"  Kathleen,"  said  Ardis,  helping  herself  to  a  piece 
of  pie,  "  do  you  ever  tell  lies?  " 

"  Not  always,"  answered  Kathleen.  "  But  when 
such  a  descent  is  necessary,  I  can  be  the  best  liar 
that  you  ever  knew.  I  can  elevate  the  profession  so 
that  a  thousand  rejected  competitors  fall  back  in  a 
wilted  line  and  wither.  I  can  — " 

"  You  can  practise  until  evening  comes,"  said  Ardis, 
jumping  down  from  her  high  perch.  "We  supe- 
rior officers  have  no  more  time  to  waste  upon  you. 
Here  's  your  shoe,  Chris ;  "  and  presently  the  two  girls 
went  off  together,  arm  in  arm,  leaving  Kathleen  to 
demolish  her  pie  alone. 

"  As  Mr.  Arthur  Sherburne  Hardy  has  wisely 
observed,"  she  said,  with  a  dramatic  flourish  of  the 
arm,  "  '  Digestion  is  a  solitary  business/  " 

119 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

That  night  all  Freshmen  and  Juniors  were  ex- 
cluded from  the  Gymnasium,  while  the  Sophomores 
attacked  and  valiantly  defeated  their  substitute  team. 
Kathleen  did  so  well  in  her  new  position  that  there 
seemed  to  be  much  cause  for  encouragement  on 
the  Sophomore  side. 

The  excitement  grew  intense  as  the  time  for  the 
game  approached,  and  on  the  following  night  the 
running  track  around  the  Gymnasium  was  packed 
to  overflowing  with  enthusiastic  girls,  while  the 
Faculty  ^occupied  the  stage.  As  one  maiden  dis- 
respectfully observed,  it  was  their  first  appearance. 
One  side  of  the  track  was  draped  in  violet,  and  the 
other  in  green,  while  many  flags  danced  through  the 
railings,  and  competitive  knots  of  spectators  sang 
their  class  songs  in  rival  keys.  There  was  much 
cheering  when  Miss  Carlisle  came  in  wearing  the 
green  of  Ninety-five,  and  Christine,  who  saw  her 
from  behind  the  door  in  the  dressing-room,  flushed 
with  pride  and  satisfaction. 

The  Freshmen  ran  into  the  hall  first,  and  when 
Christine  heard  the  tremendous  applause  which 
greeted  them,  her  heart  sank,  for  she  felt  that  all 
this  cheering  might  mean  "  thumbs  down  "  for  the 
Sophomores,  and  she  was  responsible  for  their  suc- 
cess, or  if  worst  came  to  worst,  for  their  failure. 

"  We  can  do  anything  while  we  have  you,"  said 
Elsie  Dane,  as  if  she  had  been  reading  her  thoughts ; 
and  Christine's  courage  came  back  with  a  bound. 
She  gathered  her  team  around  her,  lifted  the  green 
flag  which  stood  in  the  corner,  and  holding  it  above 
them  with  one  fierce  gesture  of  love  and  loyalty, 
said, — 

120 


THE  BASKET-BALL   GAME 

"  Girls,  it  is  for  this  !  " 

Her  classmates  understood  her,  and  clenched  their 
fists  in  silent  determination. 

When  they  ran  into  the  hall,  Christine  did  not  hear 
the  tumult  of  cheering  which  greeted  them;  she 
began  to  toss  the  ball  around  from  one  to  another 
of  her  team,  that  they  might  be  ready  for  hard  work 
when  the  umpire  gave  the  signal.  A  beautiful  banner 
of  white  silk,  with  a  golden  "  H  "  in  the  centre,  hung 
impressively  from  one  end  of  the  running  track,  and 
the  color  that  came  off  victorious  would  take  its 
place  beneath  this  flag,  to  remain  until  another  year 
had  come  and  another  game  been  played. 

The  Sophomores  were  singing 

"  Highly  waves  our  emerald  banner, 

Pride  of  Ninety-five ; 
Who  to  win  it  further  glory, 
Ardently  would  strive," 

to  the  tune  of  "  Hold  the  Fort,"  and  little  Clare  was 
beating  time  with  a  flagstaff. 

"  Play !  "  called  the  umpire,  and  the  game  began. 

"  Now,  as  herald  of  our  honor, 

Springtime  is  at  hand  ; 
And  our  glorious  green  shall  cover 
The  awakened  land." 

"  Three  to  one,  favor  of  Ninety-six,"  called  the  um- 
pire ;  and  the  violet  flags  waved  wildly,  like  flowers 
in  a  storm. 

"  Play ! "  and  Christine  threw  up  both  arms  to 
catch  that  nimble  ball  which  was  almost  within  her 
reach ;  when  suddenly  the  right  arm  dropped  to  her 

121 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

side  like  a  shot  thing,  and  the  Gymnasium  whirled 
around. 

"  Let  me  get  through,  let  me  pass,  for  Heaven's 
sake ! "  implored  Ruth,  pushing  her  way  through  the 
crowd  in  the  gallery.  "  Let  me  pass  or  I  will  walk 
over  you.  Let  me  get  by !  "  and  even  before  she 
reached  the  stairs,  the  cheering  broke  out  again  on 
the  Freshman  side. 

Christine  had  been  taken  to  the  dressing-room 
by  two  of  the  substitute  team,  and  Ardis,  as  sub- 
captain,  was  fighting  bravely  in  her  place. 

"  It  is  the  shoulder  again!"  said  Ruth,  as  she  saw 
Christine's  face.  "  Girls,  one  of  you  help  me  take 
her  home.  Mildred,  go  for  the  doctor  immediately. 
Florence,"  to  a  Marston  Freshman  who  was  stand- 
ing by  the  door,  "  tell  Faith  Bentley  to  tell  Clare 
Deland  I  want  her  at  the  Hadley  immediately ;  "  and 
the  girls  flew  away  on  their  various  errands,  while 
Ruth  and  one  of  the  substitute  team  took  Christine 
home. 

Mrs.  Sawyer,  the  matron  of  the  Hadley,  was  away 
that  evening,  but  Miss  Carlisle  had  seen  the  Sopho- 
more captain  leave  the  Gymnasium,  and  hurried  over 
to  find  out  what  was  the  matter.  She  helped  Clare 
and  Ruth  get  Christine  into  bed,  and  then  went 
downstairs  to  wait  until  the  doctor  came.  It  seemed 
as  if  he  would  never  come,  and  Christine  was  in  an 
agony  of  nervousness  about  the  game.  Ruth  kept 
one  girl  stationed  at  the  Gymnasium,  and  another  in 
the  hall  downstairs,  to  come  and  report  every  few 
minutes;  but  the  reports  were  not  favorable,  and 
meanwhile  the  shoulder  was  growing  worse.  At 
last  the  front  door  slammed,  and  footsteps  were 

122 


THE   BASKET-BALL   GAME 

heard  coming  up  the  stairs.     Over  in  the  Gymna- 
sium Christine  could  hear  them  singing,  — 

"  Courage,  classmates,  we  are  called 

The  finest  class  alive  ; 
Now  uphold  your  reputation, 
Fight  for  Ninety-five !  " 

"  Ruth,"  she  said  quietly,  "take  down  our  flag, — 
the  flag  of  Ninety-five.  Hold  it  where  I  can  see  it, 
and  then  I  shall  not  scream  when  my  shoulder  is 
set." 

Ruth  obeyed  her  with  quivering  lips,  and  had  just 
hung  it  over  the  foot  of  the  bed,  when  the  doctor 
came  into  the  room.  He  was  not  the  old  doctor, 
but  Dr.  Comstock,  a  younger  practitioner  who  had 
recently  come  to  South  Harland ;  and  Mildred 
VVyman  called  Ruth  out  into  the  hall  to  tell  her  that 
they  had  been  everywhere  and  could  find  no  one 
else. 

"  I  have  heard  that  he  is  very  fine,"  said  Ruth, 
"  and,  at  any  rate,  he  will  know  how  to  put  a  shoulder 
in  place.  Don't  go  away  yet,  Mildred;  we  shall  need 
you  and  Clare  in  a  few  minutes." 

She  returned  to  Christine,  and  heard  the  doctor 
saying:  "Does  this  hurt  you,  and  this?  Ah,  yes;  I 
thought  so.  It  ought  to  have  been  attended  to 
before.  Can  you  roll  a  bandage?"  he  asked,  turn- 
ing to  Ruth.  And  when  slie  proudly  assented,  he 
said :  "  Ask  some  of  the  young  ladies  to  help  you, 
and  get  to  work  immediately.  Miss  Carlisle,  if  you 
would  kindly  close  the  door." 

The  doctor  was  pouring  something  from  a  bottle 
on  to  a  handkerchief,  and  presently  he  came  over  to 

123 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

the  bed,  saying,  "  If  you  will  lie  perfectly  still,  Miss 
Arnold,  this  will  soon  be  over." 

"  I  won't  lie  still,"  cried  Christine.  "  Doctor,  I  am 
not  afraid  of  being  hurt,  I  never  was  afraid  of  pain 
in  my  life.  I  will  promise  not  to  utter  a  sound,  only 
don't  give  me  ether.  I  am  not  afraid  of  pain,  I  tell 
you  —  I  can  bear  anything.  I  am  not  afraid ;  "  and 
then  something  cold,  with  a  sweet  and  suffocating 
odor,  was  laid  upon  her  face.  She  felt  Miss  Carlisle's 
hand  in  hers,  and  tried  to  ask  her  if  she  would  not 
take  away  that  dreadful  handkerchief,  when  sud- 
denly the  walls  darkened,  and  she  .was  sitting  in 
Number  6,  College  Hall,  waiting  for  recitation  to 
begin. 

She  wondered  why  they  should  have  a  recitation 
in  the  dark,  and  when  Miss  Carlisle  called  upon  her, 
she  answered,  "Unprepared."  All  the  girls  laughed 
at  her;  Miss  Carlisle  pointed  a  scornful  finger  at 
her,  and  she  suddenly  realized  that  she  had  come  to 
recitation  with  her  gym  suit  on.  "  How  could  they 
see  in  the  dark  !  "  she  thought,  as  she  rose  and  walked 
out  of  the  room. 

She  was  in  the  basement  of  the  Gymnasium,  and 
the  game  was  going  on  overhead,  but  when  she 
tried  to  get  upstairs  the  door  was  locked.  She  ran 
wildly  back  and  forth,  hearing  the  girls  call  to  her 
from  above,  and  yet  she  could  not  go  to  them.  She 
found  a  chair  and  knew  that  if  she  could  climb  into 
it,  she  would  float  up  through  the  ceiling  into  the 
hall ;  but  whenever  she  approached  it,  the  chair 
trembled  and  looked  as  if  it  would  fall  in  pieces. 
At  last  she  did  climb  into  it,  and  went  up  through 
the  floor  into  the  Gymnasium ;  but  it  was  empty  and 

124 


THE   BASKET-BALL  GAME 

dark,  and  a  thousand  voices  screamed  at  her  from 
the  shadows. 

"  I  could  not  help  it,"  she  cried,  "  I  tried  to  be 
here  in  time  !  " 

"  Christabel,"  said  a  sweet  voice  not  far  from  her 
cheek,  "  Christabel,  my  darling !  " 

She  roused  a  little,  and  tried  to  cling  to  the  voice, 
but  it  whirled  away  out  of  sight,  and  she  was  once 
more  left  alone.  Directly  before  her  was  a  stormy 
wheel,  and  it  blew  so  wildly  through  the  air  that 
she  thought  it  must  be  a  cyclone. 

"We  always  expected  one  in  Burlington,"  she 
said  to  herself.  "  But  what  is  that  in  the  middle  of 
it?  It  looks  like  our  flag,  and  it  will  be  blown  into 
tatters." 

The  cyclone  drew  nearer  with  a  roaring  cry,  and 
stopped  with  a  slight  jar  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 
Christine  saw  that  the  flag  had  not  been  injured ; 
and  turning  to  Miss  Carlisle,  who  still  held  her  hand, 
she  asked,  "  How's  the  game?  :' 

"  Fine  !  "  answered  the  doctor,  with  a  boyish  laugh ; 
and  then  he  motioned  to  three  breathless  figures  in 
gym  suits  who  were  waiting  outside  the  door.  They 
came  in  on  tiptoe,  and  laid  at  the  foot  of  Christine's 
bed  a  white  silken  banner  with  a  golden  "  H "  in 
its  centre,  and  beneath  that  banner  was  tied  the  flag 
of  Ninety-five ! 

Two  of  the  figures  in  gym  suits  were  weeping 
quietly,  but  the  third  was  overflowing  with  dramatic 
importance  and  said,  "  Doctor,  can  we  talk?  " 

"  Not  to-night,"  he  answered  ;  "  to-morrow.  Miss 
Arnold  must  go  to  sleep  now;  "  and  he  pointed  to  the 
door.  But  on  the  way  out  the  dramatic  figure  said  : 

1*5 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  It  is  not  myself  that  would  talk,  but,  oh,  cap- 
tain, you  ought  to  be  proud  of  Ardis,  for  she  did  the 
whole  thing.  She  played  magnificently,  and  kept 
telling  us  all  the  time  to  be  worthy  of  you.  Leo- 
nora would  go  into  the  game  at  the  last,  and  of 
course  her  old  ankle  turned  over  again,  so  now  she  's 
sitting  down  in  the  Gym  with  her  foot  bandaged  up, 
yelling  '  Hurrah  for  Ninety-five  !  " 

The  door  was  speedily  closed,  and  when  Miss 
Carlisle  and  the  doctor  had  gone  downstairs,  Chris- 
tine said,  "Was  Ardis  here  in  the t room  before  I 
came  out  from  the  chloroform?  " 

"  She  ran  over  for  a  minute  when  the  game  was 
nearly  finished,"  answered  Ruth,  in  surprise,  "  but 
the  intermission  was  so  short  that  she  had  to  rush 
to  get  back.  How  could  you  possibly  know  that 
she  had  been  here?" 

"  I  thought  she  was,"  said  Christine,  drowsily;  and 
long  after  Ruth  had  supposed  her  to  be  asleep,  she 
turned  quietly  upon  the  pillows  and  observed,  "  The 
finest  class  alive !  " 

Early  in  the  morning  the  flowers  began  to  come 
in,  —  great  bunches  of  violets  and  smilax  from  the 
Freshman  class,  roses  and  roses  from  the  Sopho- 
mores. Number  2  Hadley  looked  like  a  garden, 
and  Ruth  made  the  sweetest  of  gardeners,  as  she 
moved  around  among  the  flower  children,  clipping 
stems,  filling  wash-bowls,  and  exclaiming  with  de- 
light over  each  new  face. 

Kathleen  came  in  and  illustrated  her  graphic 
account  of  the  game  by  acting  it  out  on  the  floor. 

"  Minnie  Appleyard  went  down  on  top  of  Rachel 
once,"  she  said,  "  and  Rachel  thought  she  was  done 

126 


THE  BASKET-BALL   GAME 

for,  sure,  —  you  know  how  fat  Min  is,  —  and  began  to 
forgive  all  the  people  who  had  stepped  on  her  feet 
in  ferry-boats;  when  suddenly  she  remembered  the 
power  of  mind  over  matter.  Min  was  the  matter,  you 
know;  so,  as  soon  as  Rachel  had  denied  the  exist- 
ence of  Min,  she  rolled  out  from  under  her  and 
caught  the  ball." 

"  There  is  everything  in  the  power  of  mind  over 
matter,"  said  Christine,  "  if  what  is  subservient  to  the 
will  can  be  guided  by  it;  but  unfortunately  shoulders 
are  not  subservient  to  the  will,  and  never  can  be." 

"  Not  when  they  're  '  un-jinted,'  "  said  Kathleen. 
"  But,  cap'n,  are  n't  you  going  to  be  out  for  the 
April  Fool's  Eve  dance?  We  can't  have  it  without 
you,  in  the  least  particular." 

"  I  asked  the  doctor,"  said  Christine,  indignantly, 
"  and  he  said  it  was  doubtful." 

The  "  April  Fool's  Eve  "  dance  was  to  be  a  masked 
ball,  given  by  the  Sophomores  of  the  Hardwick,  a 
large  boarding-house  on  Elm  Street,  for  the  members 
of  their  own  class.  "  Just  like  Ninety-five,"  said  the 
upper-class  girls,  when  they  heard  of  the  arrange- 
ment; but  Ninety-five  only  laughed,  because  it  was 
loyal  enough  not  to  mind  being  told  that  it  was  like 
itself. 

Ardis  and  Christine  had  been  making  two  Quaker 
costumes,  exactly  alike,  to  be  worn  at  the  dance ;  and 
as  the  girls  were  of  the  same  height,  they  were  hoping 
that  no  one  would  be  able  to  tell  them  apart.  Ardis 
came  in  that  afternoon,  and  put  the  finishing  touches 
on  Christine's  costume,  for  the  making  of  them  had 
been  a  great  secret,  and  not  even  Ruth  was  to  know. 
But  when  the  night  of  the  festivity  came,  it  was  very 

127 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

evident  that  Christine  could  not  be  there,  for  she  had 
scarcely  left  her  room,  and  no  one  suspected  that  the 
doctor  had  given  her  full  permission  to  go,  if  she 
would  promise  not  to  dance.  She  received  much 
sympathy  from  the  girls  in  the  house,  who  came  in 
to  show  her  their  costumes,  and  consult  with  her  over 
their  funny  disguises. 

When  they  were  all  gone,  she  triumphantly  arrayed 
herself  in  the  Quaker  costume,  and  set  forth,  wonder- 
ing if  Ardis  would  not  be  surprised  when  she  saw  her 
double  walk  into  the  hall.  The  Hardwick  girls  had 
engaged  the  Gymnasium  of  the  Waltham  Preparatory 
School  for  their  dance,  and  when  Christine  arrived, 
the  place  was  already  gay  with  lights  and  resonant 
with  violins.  She  marched  boldly  in,  and  bowed 
gravely  to  all  the  Hadley  girls  whose  costumes  she 
had  seen,  laughing  meanwhile  at  their  curiosity  and 
surprise.  Strange  figures  came  up  to  peer  through 
the  eye-holes  of  her  mask,  and  Ruth  asked  her,  in  a 
high-pitched  voice,  if  she  would  not  dance ;  but  Chris- 
tine shook  her  head  and  darted  away. 

She  was  looking  around  the  room  for  another  cos- 
tume like  her  own,  when  suddenly  a  tall  figure  in  cap 
and  gown  seized  her  arm,  saying,  "  Come  into  the 
hall  a  minute.  I  want  to  speak  to  you  ;  "  and  Christine 
followed  in  high  glee,  anticipating  revelations  of  an 
amusing  nature.  The  girl  took  her  into  the  little 
passageway  near  the  door,  glanced  nervously  around, 
and  then  whispered:  "They  say  that  Miss  Carlisle 
has  found  out  who  it  was  that  black-balled  Christine 
Arnold." 

Her  companion  gave  a  violent  start,  and  she  said, 
"  Yes,  I  knew  how  you  would  feel  about  it.  Of  course 

128 


THE   BASKET-BALL  GAME 

some  of  the  girls  were  wild  at  the  time,  and  it  seems 
that  Christine  —  "  At  that  moment  somebody  came 
into  the  passageway  from  the  cloak-room,  and  the 
cap-and-gown  slipped  away,  saying,  "  I  '11  see  you 
later." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  Gymnasium  door  slammed, 
and  Christine  was  speeding  home  through  the  dark- 
ness. She  felt  very  cold,  and  ran  swiftly,  to  start  up 
her  circulation,  but  when  she  reached  the  Hadley  she 
was  shivering.  "Do  I  care  so  much  as  all  that?" 
she  said  between  her  teeth ;  and  then  she  sat  down  in 
her  room,  to  see  if  she  could  understand  this  thing 
that  had  happened  to  her. 

"I  have  been  studying,  I  have  been  —  I  have  been 
studying,"  she  said  with  quick,  short  breaths.  "What 
have  I  done  that  they  should  treat  me  so  ?  " 

She  still  felt  very  cold,  and,  having  exchanged  the 
Quaker  costume  for  a  warm  wrapper,  she  filled  her 
hot-water  bag  in  the  bathroom,  and  lay  down  on  her 
bed.  Then  she  pulled  the  blanket  and  steamer  rugs 
up  over  her  with  the  uninjured  arm,  and  lay  very 
still. 

"  Miss  Carlisle  gave  me  '  Excellent '  on  both  my 
essays,"  she  thought.  "  Dr.  Gillette  said  I  did  well. 
Fraulein  Schaf  said  I  did  well.  Professor  Thome 
said — yes,  he  said  I  did  well.  What  have  I  done 
that  they  should  treat  me  so?  " 

We  all  understand  that  it  is  foolish  to  care  so  much 
about  belonging  to  a  college  society,  for  the  college 
world  is  doubtless  very  small ;  but  when  wrapped  in 
shadow,  the  great  and  the  little  worlds  become  as 
one,  and  that  one  is  the  lost  world  which  was  the 
greatest  of  all ! 

9  129 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

Christine  knew  that  the  stranger  had  mistaken  her 
for  Ardis,  and  the  color  rose  to  her  face  at  the 
thought  that  Ardis  must  have  known  about  it  all 
along.  When  did  it  occur?  Why  had  Ardis  not 
worked  harder  for  her  in  the  society?  If  she,  instead 
of  Ardis,  had  been  in  the  Phi  Delta  Kappa,  she  would 
have  left  no  stone  unturned  to  make  her  friend  a 
member.  "  But  I  am  very  stupid,  and  not  at  all 
popular,"  she  thought.  "  It  is  more  probable  that 
Ardis  did  work  for  me  and  failed,  —  failed  because  I 
was  not  worthy  to  be  one  of  them." 

She  lay  awake  far  into  the  night,  and  the  next 
morning  her  eyes  were  wild,  like  those  of  a  child 
that  has  been  misunderstood.  Vacation  came  soon, 
and  in  the  confusion  of  packing,  her  sadness  passed 
unnoticed  ;  but  she  knew  that  Spring  term  was  await- 
ing her,  with  all  its  burden  of  joy. 

For  other  girls,  this  year  had  grown  like  a  flower ; 
for  Christine,  it  had  gone  out  like  a  candle. 


130 


CHAPTER   X 

HAMMOCKS   AND   APPLE-BLOSSOMS 

THE  classes  of  Ninety-three  and  Ninety-five  had 
always  been  friends. 

On  the  first  day  of  April  the  Seniors  went  to 
Ethics,  and  found  a  notice  on  the  door,  stating  that 
the  recitation  would  be  held  in  a  certain  room  up- 
stairs, so  they  took  their  books,  and  wearily  ascended 
another  flight.  In  a  few  minutes  they  came  down 
again,  to  find  Professor  Harding  waiting  for  them, 
and  to  remember  that  the  class  of  Ninety-five  never 
failed  to  celebrate  an  anniversary.  But  the  affection 
between  the  Seniors  and  the  Sophomores  was  re- 
newed when  Spring  term  came,  and  the  Sophomores 
planned  to  build  a  platform  behind  the  Wyndham, 
that  the  Seniors  might  dance  upon  it.  They  felt 
great  responsibility  with  regard  to  this  entertainment, 
and  the  responsibility  was  shared  by  personages  no 
less  important  than  the  Seniors  themselves.  They 
went  to  look  at  the  bulletin  board  while  the  Sopho- 
mores were  holding  their  class  meetings  in  the 
Mathematics  room,  and  wandered  casually  past  the 
door  when  a  gathering  was  about  to  disperse. 
The  Sophomores  had  resolved  to  give  the  finest  en- 
tertainment that  had  ever  heaped  coals  of  fire  upon 
Senior  heads,  and  entirely  scorned  the  idea  of  having 
an  exhibition  of  trained  dogs,  as  Kathleen  suggested. 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Above  all,  it  is  to  be  a  secret !  "  said  Elsie  Dane, 
impressively,  at  the  end  of  the  final  meeting. 

"  I  'm  awfully  afraid  it  will  warp,"  said  Kate  Der- 
vish, a  Glee  Club  girl  who  lived  in  the  Lathrop  and 
prided  herself  upon  disliking  men. 

"  It 's  a  way  that  secrets  have,  so  you  'd  better  be 
careful,"  laughed  Rachel  Winter,  whom  Kate  did  not 
like,  because  once  in  the  Chemistry  class  Rachel  had 
alluded  to  her  as  Maria. 

"  It  will  take  a  great  deal  of  lumber,"  said  Mildred 
Wyman,  thoughtfully ;  "  but  the  apple-blossoms  will 
be  out,  and  if  there  is  a  moon  — 

The  platform  was  completed  on  the  day  before  the 
reception,  and  there  was  a  moon.  The  weather  had 
been  perfect,  and  the  orchard  was  all  adrift  with 
pink;  but  on  that  festive  morning,  when  the  weather 
should  have  made  a  special  effort  to  be  good,  the 
apple-blossoms  hung  drenched  and  spiritless  in  a 
pouring  rain.  The  back  campus  sparkled  wickedly 
with  puddles,  and  the  path  out  to  the  Observatory 
was  full  of  mud. 

Sophomores  in  gossamers  and  overshoes  came  out 
to  look  at  their  platform,  and  went  away  with  gloom 
upon  their  countenances.  The  Reception  Committee 
spattered  pitifully  about  on  the  clinging  boards,  and 
said  that  when  the  platform  was  waxed,  it  would  do 
very  well.  If  only  the  sun  would  come  out  for  an 
hour,  and  dry  it  up  !  But  the  rain  continued  to  de- 
scend, and  before  long  that  platform  curled  up  like  a 
leaf  that  rests  upon  the  fire,  taking  to  itself  strange 
hollows  and  excrescences,  which  would  have  made 
dancing,  even  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances, 
a  dangerous  proceeding.  There  was  a  hurried  col- 

132 


HAMMOCKS   AND   APPLE-BLOSSOMS 

lecting  of  sofa-pillows  and  other  decorations  in  the 
undecorated  Gym,  and  that  night  a  dejected  class  of 
Sophomores  entertained  the  very  most  considerate 
class  of  Seniors  that  ever  made  light  of  a  disappoint- 
ing evening,  and  had  a  good  time. 

Elsie  Dane  took  Edith  Campbell,  who  was  Presi- 
dent of  Ninety-three.  Ruth  took  Louise  Burritt,  and 
Christine  invited  Marjorie  Drew. 

"  You  observe  that  I  am  not  unkind  enough  to  de- 
cline your  invitation !  "  she  said  with  a  laugh,  when 
Christine  went  to  ask  her.  Ardis  and  Clare  took 
Senior  friends  in  the  Marston,  and  Kathleen  invited 
Maria  Grumbagg  "as  a  penance,"  she  explained. 

The  evening  passed  off  very  pleasantly,  but  the 
Sophomores  were  terribly  humiliated  over  the  failure 
of  their  plan ;  and  when  the  Senior  Dramatics  were 
given  at  Commencement,  they  managed  to  smuggle 
a  large  box  of  roses  behind  the  scenes,  together  with 
a  card  bearing  the  following  explanation : 

"  Although  our  platform  never  felt  the  pressure  of  your  feet, 
And  there  were  limitations  as  to  what  you  had  to  eat, 
To  show  that  we  appreciate  your  efforts  to  survive, 
We  send  these  greens  with   humble  thanks,  and   love  from 
Ninety-five." 

The  Seniors  were  both  pleased  and  touched,  and 
the  flower  incident  had  a  pretty  sequel  in  due  time. 

That  last  Spring  term  of  Ninety-three  taught  the 
girls  of  Ninety-five  what  it  meant  to  lose  the  friends 
that  one  cares  for,  and  to  leave  the  college  that  is 
one's  little  world.  Ninety-five  may  have  been  ill- 
behaved,  but  it  loved  its  friends  as  sincerely  as  a 
better  class  would  have  done,  and  mourned  for  them 

133 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

long  after  people  thought  it  would  stop.  Perhaps  it 
began  to  grow  up,  from  this  time,  for  when  it  came 
back  to  college  in  the  Autumn,  it  was  a  class  of 
children  no  longer,  although  the  old  spirit  of  mischief 
continued  to  bubble  over  till  the  end. 

But  this  is  anticipating,  for  the  spirit  of  mischief 
was  in  full  force  all  through  that  beautiful  Spring 
term,  when  everything  was  calling  the  girls  out  of 
doors.  German  lessons  were  translated  on  the  back 
campus,  where  bluebirds  flashed  through  the 
branches  above,  and  pecked  surreptitiously  at  the 
red  bindings  of  forgotten  dictionaries.  Sea-like  mur- 
murs crept  through  the  grass,  and  wrapped  the 
meanings  of  Euripides  in  a  drowsy  song.  Logarithms 
flew  away  in  a  cloud  of  apple-blossoms,  and  specific 
gravities  vied  with  the  relative  merits  of  chocolate 
and  strawberry  ice-cream.  The  arbutus  was  twining 
through  the  woodland,  like  a  wandering  green  puzzle, 
with  pink  answers,  and  the-  girls  spent  whole  after- 
noons in  quest  of  the  tiny  blooms.  Hands  stained 
with  dandelions  put  down  unruly  problems  in  Cal- 
culus, and  Zoology  became  the  most  popular  study, 
because  it  involved  long  insect-hunting  expeditions, 
which  kept  the  students  out  of  doors.  Decoration 
Day  was  always  spent  in  the  country,  for  the  girls 
were  so  full  of  the  "  wild  joy  of  living  "  that  nothing 
could  keep  them  in  town  when  stern  old  work 
stepped  aside  for  one  moment,  and  said  "  Go !  " 

The  hill  settlement,  with  Ardis  and  Grace  Reade, 
started  out  in  a  beautiful  bumpy  wagon,  and  aimed 
in  a  certain  direction ;  for  Ardis  thought  that  it  would 
be  safer  to  aim  in  a  certain  direction,  although  the 
horse  did  not  exactly  go ;  and  Christine  said  that  as 


HAMMOCKS  AND   APPLE-BLOSSOMS 

Ardis  was  driving,  she  ought  to  decide  this  matter 
for  herself. 

"Only  steer  clear  of  public  thoroughfares,"  she 
added.  "We  might  excite  some  comment  from  the 
fact  that  four  of  us  sit  at  the  same  time  in  the  bottom 
of  the  cart." 

The  horse  expressed  a  preference  for  the  first  side 
street,  and  being  entirely  bit-proof,  Ardis  thought 
that  it  might  be  as  well  to  humor  him.  He  went 
along  until  he  reached  the  yard  of  his  paternal  livery- 
stable,  and  then  turned  into  it  without  offering  any 
explanation  whatever. 

"  Child  alive  !  "  said  Kathleen,  as  Ardis  tried  in  vain 
to  stop  him,  "  what  kind  of  a  pernicious  influence  are 
you  exercising  on  the  beast?  Just  stop  driving  him  a 
minute,  and  he  '11  be  all  right.  That 's  what  he  needs." 

Ruth  took  the  reins,  and  with  repeated  words  of 
endearment  induced  the  horse  to  back  out  of  the 
yard,  just  as  he  was  meditating  a  violent  entrance 
into  his  own  stall.  The  cart  retraced  its  journey, 
with  a  faithful  repetition  of  the  same  jolts,  and  Ruth 
turned  down  Main  Street,  because  she  wished  the 
animal  to  forget  those  tender  yearnings  which  the 
sight  of  home  had  aroused  in  his  heart.  They  were 
slowly  approaching  another  side  street,  when  the 
horse  stopped  short,  snorted  violently,  and  stood 
upon  one  leg. 

"  It 's  that  tired  feeling,"  said  Kathleen,  peering 
over  the  edge  of  the  cart.  "  Oh,  girls,  look  at  the 
crowd  coming  up  the  street.  What  do  you  reckon 
is  going  to  happen?  " 

"  Drive  on  quickly,"  said  Christine  to  Ruth ;  "  we 
don't  want  to  be  caught  in  a  procession." 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  He  won't  stir  an  inch,"  said  the  driver,  looking 
despairingly  at  her  horse,  which  stood  as  if  transfixed 
with  terror,  and  absolutely  ignored  the  fact  that  she 
had  been  whipping  him  for  three  minutes. 

"  Let 's  get  out,"  suggested  Ardis. 

"  We  can't,"  came  in  a  dismal  chorus  from  behind, 
"  unless  you  take  out  the  tail-board,  —  we  can't 
move !  " 

Ardis  was  preparing  to  descend  and  remove  the 
tail-board,  when  an  Arab  steed,  gayly  adorned  with 
gold  trappings,  advanced  in  thoroughbred  zigzags 
up  the  street. 

"  It 's  circus  day!  "  said  Kathleen,  in  delight;  and 
the  girls  realized  that  she  had  spoken  the  terrible 
truth.  Their  horse  started  violently,  as  two  camels, 
attired  in  red  and  gold  petticoats,  ambled  past. 

"  It  is  a  comfort  to  know  that  none  of  the  people 
in  the  crowd  will  look  at  us,"  said  Clare  ;  and  Chris- 
tine added  wickedly,  "  They  won't  look  at  us,  but  they 
will  surely  look  at  Ardis,  because  she  has  such  a  con- 
spicuous position." 

"  Christine,"  said  Ardis,  turning  swiftly  round, 
"  don't  you  ever  dare  write  up  this  experience." 

Christine  generally  carried  a  little  notebook  on 
these  occasions,  which  often  afforded  material  for 
"  Bain  papers  "  of  a  startling  nature ;  and  several  of 
these  papers  had  been  read  in  class.  She  took  a 
malicious  satisfaction  in  producing  her  notebook 
now,  when  eight  little  ponies,  each  ridden  by  one 
abject  monkey,  were  trotting  past.  She  then  became 
absorbed  in  a  spirited  description  of  the  trick  donkey, 
which  was  arrayed  in  divided  skirts  of  striped  bunt- 
ing, like  the  clown  who  walked  beside  him. 

136 


HAMMOCKS  AND  APPLE-BLOSSOMS 

It  is  doubtful  if  any  of  the  party  were  prepared  for 
elephants,  but  it  is  always  the  unexpected  that  hap- 
pens. Two  good-sized  specimens  of  the  unexpected 
came  padding  up  the  street,  with  swinging  trunks 
and  wind-tossed  ears ;  and  the  horse,  who  had  been 
patient  through  many  surprises,  said,  "  Here  I  draw 
the  line."  He  bolted  abruptly  down  Main  Street, 
turned  off  at  the  ferry-road,  and  ran  without  stopping 
till  he  came  to  the  river.  The  girls  were  interested 
to  see  if  he  would  try  to  swim  across,  but  the  old 
ferryman  did  not  give  him  an  opportunity. 

"  Whoa,  there,"  he  shouted,  seizing  the  reins. 
"  Stiddy  now.  Say-y,"  turning  to  the  girls  with 
reproach  in  his  eyes,  "  you  've  been  drivin'  him  too 
hard !  " 

The  horse  meekly  allowed  himself  to  be  embarked, 
the  front  wheels  of  the  cart  followed,  and  after  a  few 
minutes  the  back  wheels  complied;  and  the  un- 
wieldy boat  began  to  move  sideways  across  the 
stream. 

"  Guess  we  're  goin'  to  hev  rain,"  said  the  ferry- 
man, when  they  reached  the  opposite  shore.  "  I 
never  knew  it  to  fail  to  rain  on  circus  day." 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,"  said  Grace ;  but 
when  they  had  started  on  again,  they  discovered  that 
a  ferryman's  prophecy  is  not  to  be  ignored.  The  air 
grew  very  close,  and  the  scent  of  the  flowers  became 
intense,  as  if  the  warmth  had  crushed  the  perfume 
out  of  them;  the  maples  flashed  silver  all  of  a 
sudden,  and  a  whirl  of  dust  scudded  up  the  road. 

"  It  is  of  no  use,"  said  Ardis,  as  a  big  drop  splashed 
upon  her  nose,  "  but,  oh,  if  I  don't  get  even  with  that 
horse!" 

'37 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

A  large  barn,  with  a  door  at  each  end,  stood  in- 
vitingly near,  and  the  girls  drove  into  it,  hoping  that 
the  proprietor  would  prove  as  hospitable  as  other 
Connecticut  Valley  folk.  He  soon  relieved  their 
doubts  by  emerging  from  the  cow-shed,  with  a  bucket 
and  a  beaming  smile. 

"You're  college  girls,  now,  ain't  you?"  he  said, 
"  and  if  you  be  college  girls  this  barn 's  yourn. 
That  's  all  I  Ve  got  to  say.  This  barn  's  yourn." 

The  girls  thanked  him  so  warmly  that  he  imme- 
diately offered  to  provide  hard-boiled  eggs  for  the 
whole  party,  and  prepared  for  the  wicked  horse  a 
sumptuous  lunch,  tastefully  arranged  in  a  nose-bag. 

"Now,  that's  just  what  I've  always  felt  that  we 
needed,"  said  Grace  Reade,  gazing  mournfully  at 
the  animal.  "  If  each  of  us  had  a  nose-bag,  em- 
broidered with  her  own  initials,  the  necessity  for 
packing  lunch-boxes  would  be  avoided." 

The  other  luncheon  was  set  out  on  the  hay,  and 
two  perky-tailed  kittens  were  the  first  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  it. 

"  Felines,  avaunt !  "  said  Christine,  sternly ;  and  the 
felines  avaunted  in  such  deadly  terror  that  she 
promptly  relented,  and  coaxed  them  back  with  bits  of 
potted  ham.  There  were  lettuce  sandwiches,  and  fat 
cool  olives,  and  ginger  ale.  There  were  stuffed  eggs 
with  the  stuffing  lost  out;  there  was  a  beautiful 
mould  of  pressed  chicken,  and  there  was  an  apple- 
pie,  containing  a  broken  glass  of  raspberry  jam. 

"This  is  a  truly  pastoral  scene,"  said  Clare,  look- 
ing at  the  gentle-eyed  cow  that  was  softly  shaking 
her  chain,  and  gazing  with  interest  upon  the  com- 
pany. Two  iron-gray  cart-horses  stamped  in  their 

138 


HAMMOCKS   AND   APPLE-BLOSSOMS 

stalls,  and  snorted  indignantly  at  the  strange,  thin 
horse  who  was  eating  out  of  their  nose-bag.  Outside 
the  rain  swept  down  in  long  gray  slants ;  inside  was 
the  sound  of  rhythmic  crunching. 

"  Did  you  notice  how  sweet  the  flowers  were 
before  the  storm?"  asked  Clare.  "It  was  as  if  they 
had  been  singing  all  the  time,  and  we  had  only  just 
heard  them  because  of  the  silence." 

"  Speaking  of  silence,"  said  Grace,  "  Christine 
has  n't  made  a  remark  this  term.  What 's  the  matter, 
Christine?" 

"  I  speak  when  I  have  anything  to  say,"  was  the 
exhaustive  answer,  and  the  subject  was  tactfully 
dropped.  She  wondered  if  the  girls  knew  what  the 
matter  really  was,  and  thought  of  the  comforting 
letter  she  had  received  from  Stephen  that  morn- 
ing. She  had  confided  her  troubles  to  him  in  the 
vacation,  and  he  had  given  her  a  great  deal  of  sen- 
sible advice.  This  last  letter  said :  "  Don't  think  any 
more  about  that  trumpery  society.  I  would  n't  want 
to  join  a  society  where  the  parties  could  n't  tell  a 
bright  girl  when  they  saw  her,  anyhow.  Think, 
first  of  all,  what  you  came  to  college  for,  and,  last 
of  all,  that  you  can  leave  it  again  as  soon  as  you 
like." 

This  appealed  to  Christine's  pride,  as  Stephen 
knew  that  it  would,  and  she  had  gained  courage 
ever  since. 

"  Let 's  drink  somebody's  health,"  said  Kathleen, 
waving  her  glass  in  the  air.  "  Whose  shall  it  be?  " 

"  That  glass  happens  to  be  mine  if  you  wish  to 
know,"  said  Grace.  "  You  upset  yours  a  minute 
ago  into  the  pie." 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Let 's  drink  to  dear  old  Ninety-three,"  said  Ruth; 
and  a  sudden  shadow  fell  upon  the  party. 

"  Why  did  you  mention  them?  "  said  Grace,  sadly. 
"  It  does  n't  seem  as  if  anything  could  be  the  same 
when  they  are  gone." 

"  I  wonder  if  we  shall  be  the  same,"  said  Clare. 
"  People  say  that  the  step  between  Sophomore  and 
Junior  year  is  the  longest." 

"  We  '11  jump  over  it,  then,  or  walk  around  it," 
said  Kathleen,  making  a  '95  out  of  olive-pits,  on  an 
upturned  pan.  "  I  myself  shall  remain  the  same." 

"  Christine  has  changed  a  good  deal  in  one  respect," 
said  Ardis.  "  In  Freshman  year  she  considered  it 
compromising  to  be  seen  in  public  with  a  paper 
bag;  but  the  other  day  I  met  her  walking  innocently 
up  Elm  Street  carrying  a  silk  screen  and  a  pair  of 
shoes !  " 

"  Do  you  really  feel  just  as  you  did  last  year, 
Kathleen?"  asked  Ruth,  who  did  not  like  to  have 
Christine  teased. 

"  If  anything  has  led  you  to  draw  inferences  to  the 
contrary,"  said  Kathleen,  with  a  wave  of  the  arm, 
"  then  my  looks  belie  my  appearance !  Now,  ladies  ! 
I  will  declaim  the  Anglo-Saxon  lesson  for  to-morrow, 
so  that  you  will  see  him  prostrate  at  her  feet,  and  the 
straw  shall  run  with  gore  — 

"  Instead  of  spiders,"  broke  in  Clare. 

"  The  subject  of  to-morrow's  lesson,"  observed 
Ardis,  "  is  the  story  of  Orpheus  and  Eurydice.  I 
fear  that  you  have  confused  your  plot  with  the  tales 
that  appear  in  the  'Saturday  Serpent.'" 

"  When  that  time  comes,"  said  Kathleen,  ambig- 
uously, "  let  me  know." 

140 


HAMMOCKS   AND   APPLE-BLOSSOMS 

She  scrambled  to  her  feet,  and  began  to  recite  in  a 
strange  unearthly  language,  the  like  of  which  is 
seldom  heard,  because  it  is  not  a  living  tongue,  and 
yet  has  never  received  the  respect  that  is  due  to 
the  dead.  Her  dramatic  gestures  were  irresistible, 
and  when  she  had  finished,  her  audience  was  rolling 
upon  the  hay  in  merriment. 

"  Say-y,"  said  a  gruff  voice  from  the  door,  "  I 
used  to  know  a  deef  lunatic  gentleman  up  to  the 
Hosp'tal,  who  was  Portugee  on  his  mother's  side, 
and  he  used  to  talk  just  like  you." 

The  girls  exploded  with  laughter,  and  Christine 
said:  "What  would  Miss  Carlisle  say  to  that?  I  sup- 
pose she  would  refer  the  lunatic  gentleman  to 
Grimm's  Law." 

"  It 's  letting  up  now,"  said  Grace,  who  had  been 
casually  collecting  the  lunch-baskets.  "  Don't  you 
think  that  we  had  better  resume  our  pilgrimage?" 

"  To  resume  our  pilgrimage  means  to  go  home,  I 
suppose,"  said  Ruth.  "  Well,  it  is  certain  that  we 
have  found  this  the  Palace  Beautiful ;  "  and  their  host 
volunteered,  — 

"I  ain't  no  objections  to  your  stayin'  longer,  no 
objections  at  all,  but  I  guess  you  think  your  mas  — 
or  your  schoolm'ams  I  'd  oughter  say —  will  be  frettin' 
after  you,  and  it  ain't  like  me  to  want  to  git  you  a 
scoldin'.  I  jest  hope  you  '11  come  again  soon,  though, 
and  what  I  want  ye  to  remember  is  that  this  barn  's 
yourn !  " 

The  girls  thanked  him  again,  and  presently  they 
were  driving  home  through  air  that  spoke  of  wet 
lilacs,  while  a  long  rift  of  sunshine,  washed  yellow 
and  bright,  followed  them  down  the  road. 

141 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  After  all,"  said  Clare,  "  the  real  Palace  Beautiful 
is  the  place  that  you  leave  behind  when  you  go  out 
on  your  pilgrimage,  and  return  to  at  night  when  the 
journey  is  done  !  " 

A  few  days  later,  Clare  found  a  new  winding  stair 
in  her  Palace  Beautiful,  which  led  her  up  where  she 
could  see  the  sky.  Ardis  came  into  her  room  with  a 
little  note,  and  when  the  other  people  who  had  been 
waiting  outside  the  door,  rushed  in  to  kiss  her,  Clare 
knew  that  something  delightful  had  happened. 

"  Is  it  really  true  that  I  am  in  Phi  Delta  Kappa !  " 
she  cried.  "  Do  you  suppose  that  perhaps  they  did  n't 
know  how  stupid  I  am  ?  " 

"  They  understood  everything,"  said  Ardis,  who 
was  watching  her  with  happy  eyes.  "  Now  come  over 
to  chapel,  little  dearest,  and  let  them  show  you  how 
well  they  understood  !  " 

She  fastened  the  pretty  pin  in  Clare's  dress,  and 
when  Clare  said,  "  Oh,  I  am  afraid  that  something 
will  happen  to  it !  "  she  answered,  laughing,  — 

"  The  pin  is  your  own,  so  you  can  lose  it  if  you 
like.  I  telegraphed  to  your  mother  Saturday  night, 
after  you  got  in,  and  she  telegraphed  back  to  have 
your  pin  ready  for  you  to  put  on  Monday  morning." 

"My  best  beloved,  did  you  do  that?"  asked 
Clare ;  and  then  she  added  to  herself,  "  My  mother  is 
a  happy  mother  to-day !  " 

This  happiness  that  had  come  to  her  helped  to 
make  other  people  happy  too,  for  she  moved  in  a 
soft  atmosphere  of  joy  that  encompassed  her  like  a 
warmth. 

"  It  is  not  only  being  in  the  society,"  she  thought, 
"  but  to  know  that  they  really  wanted  me,  that  per- 

142 


HAMMOCKS   AND   APPLE-BLOSSOMS 

haps  they  must  have  wanted  me  just  a  little,  to  take 
me  in.  It  is  beautiful !  " 

The  girls  said  that  Clare  had  not  realized  until  now 
how  many  people  were  her  friends ;  and  in  speaking 
of  that  day  afterwards  to  her  mother,  she  said :  "  It 
was  as  if  I  had  awakened  one  morning,  and  found  a 
bird  singing  in  my  room !  " 

The  birds  were  singing  on  the  campus  now,  and  the 
Senior  roses  were  blooming  through  little  Clare's  joy. 
There  was  one  bed  of  deep  red  roses,  that  blossomed 
late,  and  they  were  called  the  Senior  roses,  because 
when  they  came,  it  meant  that  the  Seniors  were 
going  away.  There  were  the  last  few  walks  to  be 
taken  together,  —  walks  that  led  where  one  could 
see  the  mountains,  and  walks  that  wandered  down 
the  road  beside  the  lake ;  evenings  when  the  singing 
of  frogs  came  up  through  the  dusk  of  trees,  and 
mornings  when  the  chapel  exercises  seemed  all  too 
short.  Then  came  the  memory  of  days  when  the 
Seniors  were  dressed  all  in  white,  Edith,  Marjorie,  and 
the  rest,  and  an  Ivy  Song  on  the  college  steps  crept 
in  between  them  and  the  girls  who  must  stay  behind. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  it  all?"  thought  Clare, 
when  Commencement  was  over.  "  Does  it  mean  that 
some  time  we  —  we  must  do  that  too  ?  " 

She  was  changing  her  room  in  the  Marston  that 
day,  moving  into  one  which  she  wanted,  because  it 
had  "  a  twilight  and  a  star ;  "  the  old  one  had  been 
full  of  electric  flashings  from  a  light  in  the  street. 
She  carried  books  down  the  corridor,  trying  not  to 
look  in  at  the  dismantled  rooms,  where  ghostly  forms, 
concealed  under  sheets,  lay  stretched  upon  the  beds. 
Outside  the  rain  was  falling  very  softly,  as  if  it  would 

143 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

put  to  sleep  the  memories  of  the  year,  —  that  year 
which  had  led  Ninety-three  to  the  borderland,  and 
watched  her  out  of  sight  with  fearless  eyes,  knowing 
that  what  her  Alma  Mater  had  given  her  would  guide 
her  safely  on. 

Clare  and  Ardis  were  the  last  girls  to  leave  the 
house,  and  that  afternoon  they  walked  down  to  the 
station  together. 

"  You  are  going  to  write  to  me  this  summer,  are  n't 
you  ?  "  asked  Clare ;  and  Ardis  answered  seriously, 
"  I  never  correspond  with  people,  but  I  am  always 
perfectly  willing  to  receive  letters  from  them." 

They  both  laughed,  and  when  they  parted  at 
Springfield,  Ardis  said,  "  It  will  take  us  nearly  all 
summer,  I  think,  to  realize  that  the  girls  of  Ninety- 
five  are  Juniors !  " 


144 


CHAPTER   XI 

"WHAT  IT  MEANS  TO  BE  FRIENDS" 

IT  was  the  year  of  the  World's  Fair  in  Chicago,  and 
during  the  summer  there  were  many  unexpected 
college  reunions  on  the  "  Midway  Plaisance."  Friends 
who  had  worked  in  Laboratory  together  now  floated 
in  gondolas,  past  the  shining  steps  of  palaces,  or 
wandered  hand  in  hand  through  rooms  full  of  beauti- 
ful pictures.  Undergraduates  encountered  famous 
Alumnae  in  the  Street  of  Cairo,  and  regretted  that 
they  dared  not  offer  the  hero  of  Ninety-two  Dra- 
matics a  ride  on  the  camel. 

Ruth  Burritt  had  expected  to  go  to  the  Fair  with 
Mrs.  Arnold  and  Christine,  but,  on  account  of  the 
great  financial  depression  that  year,  her  father  had 
been  unable  to  afford  it.  She  took  the  disappoint- 
ment very  sweetly,  but  Dr.  Burritt  did  not  forget 
that  there  were  friends  whom  Ruth  might  have  seen  if 
she  had  gone  to  the  Fair,  and  whom  she  would  not 
see  now.  "  I  won't  tell  her  the  worst  until  she  has 
pulled  up  from  this,"  he  thought ;  "  she  does  not  need 
to  know  until  the  last  minute." 

So  the  summer  went  by,  and  one  morning  in  Sep- 
tember Ruth  was  called  into  her  father's  office,  to 
find  him  walking  up  and  down  with  that  look  on  his 
face  which  came  when  he  had  been  working  for 
nights  over  a  patient. 

10  145 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Papa,"  she  said,  "  you  have  had  more  bad  news 
about  money !  I  know  you  have.  Oh,  won't  that  old 
tariff  question  ever  be  settled?" 

"  Heaven  only  knows  !  "  answered  the  doctor,  with 
a  sigh ;  "  I  don't  think  Cleveland  does.  Come  here, 
Ruth,  I  want  to  talk  to  you.  Yes,  I  've  lost  money 
lately,  although  a  doctor's  income  is  not  supposed  to 
be  affected  by  tariff  reform.  You  see,  I  have  n't  had 
as  much  practice  as  usual  this  summer,  because 
every  one 's  gone  to  the  Fair ;  but  it  is  certain  that  I 
shall  have  a  great  deal  more  than  usual  when  they 
get  back !  " 

"  Papa,  you  know  that  you  don't  feel  like  joking," 
said  Ruth,  anxiously.  "  Tell  me  all  about  it,  dear. 
Is  it  so  bad  that  —  " 

"  So  bad  that  you  can't  go  back  to  college  this 
fall.  Yes,  my  poor  child." 

He  had  not  expected  that  Ruth  would  take  it  as 
she  did.  He  had  thought  that  she  would  suffer 
terribly,  that  they  would  both  suffer,  and  that  would 
be  the  end. 

"  Papa,"  she  said  with  a  white  face,  "  I  must  go 
back  to  college  !  " 

He  looked  at  her  in  distress,  thinking  that  she  had 
not  understood  him,  and  said,  "  But,  Ruth,  poor  little 
girl,  poor  little  Ruth,  I  can't  afford  it." 

"  Sit  down  here,  papa,"  pushing  him  towards  the 
big  office-chair.  "  Now,"  and  she  put  both  arms 
around  his  neck,  "  you  must  listen  to  what  I  say,  be- 
cause it  won't  be  long.  Papa,  there  is  nothing  in  the 
world,  next  to  my  family,  that  means  so  much  to  me 
as  my  college.  It  is  what  Yale  was  to  you.  Papa ! 
think  what  Yale  is  to  you  now,  what  it  always  will  be. 

146 


"WHAT   IT   MEANS  TO   BE   FRIENDS" 

And  I  will  work !  I  will  tutor,  and  earn  my  own 
board  as  other  girls  do,  and  the  college  will  give  me 
my  tuition  until  we  can  afford  to  pay !  " 

"  Ruth,  do  you  think  that  I  would  allow  you  to 
accept  charity  from  your  college?" 

"  Papa,  it  is  not  charity,  —  it  is  not,  indeed,  because 
the  college  is  our  mother,  you  know.  We  love  her, 
and  she  loves  us,  because  we  are  her  children.  I 
understand  just  how  the  college  feels,  when  she  wants 
to  take  care  of  us." 

"  But  do  you  mean  to  say  that  Harland  can  afford 
to  give  away  so  many  scholarships?  I  understood 
that  you  were  a  poor  college." 

"  And  so  we  are,  papa,  terribly  poor.  But  you 
don't  know  what  a  President  we  have,  and  you  don't 
know  what  a  college  that  President  has  made !  It  is 
a  poor  college,  and  that 's  why  it  gives  away  the  little 
that  it  can.  It  seems  to  me  that  it  is  nearly  always 
the  poor  people,  or  the  poor  colleges,  that  think 
they  can  afford  to  give." 

"  But  would  the  Faculty  give  a  scholarship  to 
every  one,  Ruth?  Would  they  give  one  to  a  girl 
who  was  not  a  good  student?  And  how  do  they 
know  who  the  good  students  are,  if  there  is  no  mark- 
ing-system ?  " 

"  We  have  no  public  marking-system,"  said  Ruth, 
with  spirit,  "  but  everything  that  we  do  is  on  the  col- 
lege records,  and  I  think  —  Oh,  papa,  I  have  learned 
my  lessons,  I  have  indeed,  and  I  think  they  would 
not  refuse  me  a  scholarship." 

Dr.  Burritt  rose  from  his  chair  and  began  to  walk 
up  and  down  the  room. 

"  How  can  a  girl  know  what  kind  of  work  she 's 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

doing  when  she  receives  no  regular  report?  "  he  said. 
"  I  've  often  wished  that  I  could  see  a  report  of  your 
standing,  Ruth." 

"  My  dear,  ambitious  old  father,"  said  Ruth,  jump- 
ing up  to  walk  beside  him,  "  all  that  a  girl  needs  to 
know  with  regard  to  her  work,  and  all  that  the  Fac- 
ulty expects  her  to  know,  is  that  she  is  doing  her 
very  best !  " 

"  And  have  you  done  that,  Ruth?  " 

"  Oh,  papa,  yes  !  Don't  you  remember,  Freshman 
year,  when  we  had  to  make  a  metrical  translation  of 
that  ode,  — how  Dr.  Gillette  said  mine  was  one  of  the 
best?  Don't  you  remember,  papa?  I  wrote  you 
about  it;  and  then  Professor  Everest,  in  Greek,  said 
that  I  was  quite  competent  to  tutor.  And  Professor 
Thorne  in  Chemistry  —  " 

"  But,  Ruth,  even  if  the  college  would  give  you  a 
scholarship,  I  can't  afford  to  pay  your  board  away 
from  home.  Here  in  the  family  you  would  not  cost 
me  more  than  three  or  four  dollars  a  week;  but 
there  —  " 

"  Oh,  papa,"  said  Ruth,  clasping  his  arm,  "  I  could 
live  grandly,  magnificently,  on  three  dollars  a  week. 
Oh,  if  you  would  only  let  me  go  back  and  live  on 
three  dollars  a  week!  There  is  such  a  girl,  our 
brave  little  Class  President,  who  has  no  money  at  all, 
and  she  pays  her  own  board,  all  through  sewing  and 
tutoring  and  teaching,  sometimes,  in  the  High 
School.  I  could  live  with  her,  and  we  'd  cook  our 
own  suppers  and  breakfasts,  and  I  can  sew  on  dress 
braid.  Oh,  papa,  there  was  never  any  other  college 
in  the  world  like  our  college.  Let  me  go  back  and 
live  on  three  dollars  a  week !  " 

148 


Dr.  Burritt  stopped,  and  blew  his  nose  violently 
three  times.  "  Ruth,  you  're  a  trump,"  he  said ;  "yes, 
you  're  a  trump.  Shake  hands  with  your  old  father. 
By  Jove,  you  remind  me  of  some  of  our  boys.  They 
had  to  be  brave  fellows  in  those  days,  Ruth ;  used 
to  work  like  troopers  to  get  through  college.  Some 
of  them  kept  a  night  school  in  the  town.  You  make 
me  think  of  them  when  you  speak  like  that.  I  used 
to  think  that  colleges  were  different  nowadays ;  but 
no,  Ruth,  when  a  young  girl  can  speak  as  you  have 
spoken,  it  shows  that  the  old  stock  is  still  alive." 

"  And  you  will  let  me  go  back,  papa?  " 

"  Go  to  thunder,  Ruth,  —  you  shall  do  as  you  like ! 
You  shall  do  as  you  like,  little  girl.  There  was  one 
fellow  that  went  off  to  the  war.  He  sneaked  out  the 
last  night,  and  sat  on  the  old  fence  for  ten  solitary 
minutes,  just  out  of  sentiment,  you  know,  and  his 
college  was  n't  ashamed  of  him,  either.  No,  by 
Jove !  it  was  n't.  —  He  never  came  back." 

That  night  Ruth  and  her  father  had  ginger-ale  and 
ice-cream  down  town,  and  when  Mrs.  Burritt  asked 
what  they  had  been  doing,  her  husband  said,  — 

"Oh,  we've  been  having  a  little  college  reunion  all 
by  ourselves,  have  n't  we,  Ruth  ?  The  Class  of  Sixty- 
five  and  the  Class  of  Ninety-five,  eh,  Ruth?  Come 
into  the  parlor  now,  and  let 's  sing  '  Here  's  to  Good 
Old  Yale,'  my  dear." 

When  Christine  heard  that  Ruth  intended  to  leave 
the  campus,  she  said  that  she  would  go  too,  and 
Ruth  was  obliged  to  reason  with  her  all  the  way  from 
Burlington  to  South  Harland,  before  she  could  be 
persuaded  to  remain. 

"  I  am  sure  that  Elsie  Dane  will  like  to  have  me 
149 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

with  her,"  she  argued,  "  and,  O  Chris,  you  know  that 
you  would  n't  like  to  cook  your  own  breakfast !  " 

"You  could  cook  it,"  said  Christine,  gloomily, 
"  and  I  would  eat  it." 

"  It  will  be  so  pleasant  for  you  in  the  Hadley,  with 
all  those  nice  girls ;  and  I  will  come  up  and  see  you 
every  day,  and  you  can  have  all  your  suppers  with 
us.  But,  my  poor  darling,  who  will  ever  make  you 
wake  up  in  the  morning?  I  'm  afraid  that  you  won't 
wake  up  at  all." 

"  I  can  pretend  that  the  rising-bell  is  tied  to  a  great 
savage  cow,  who  is  coming  right  up  into  my  room," 
said  Christine,  dismally,  "  and  I  can  pretend  that 
I've  been  awake  a  long  time." 

They  were  both  searching  for  a  cheerful  side  of 
this  situation  which  would  keep  them,  from  each 
other,  but  consolation  was  not  to  be  found. 

On  the  following  evening  they  were  sitting  in 
Number  2  Hadley,  with  all  Ruth's  belongings  packed 
into  a  box,  ready  to  be  moved  the  next  day.  Elsie 
Dane  was  enthusiastic  over  the  prospect  of  having  a 
companion ;  for  Marjorie  was  gone  now,  and  she  had 
been  dreading  the  long  weeks  alone,  with  nobody  to 
be  glad  when  she  came  home,  or  to  say  "  I  am 
sorry  "  when  her  little  feet  were  wet  and  tired. 

"  We  can  have  the  other  room  now,"  she  said  in 
delight.  "  I  gave  it  up  when  Marjorie  went  away, 
because  I  could  n't  afford  two ;  but  it  is  horrid  to 
cook  and  sleep  in  the  same  room.  You  have  no 
idea!  One  dreams  of  beefsteak,  and  then  wakes  up 
to  find  it  is  n't  true." 

Christine's  mouth  quivered  when  she  looked 
around  those  little  rooms  which  she  had  first  entered 

150 


"WHAT   IT   MEANS  TO   BE   FRIENDS" 

as  a  Freshman,  two  years  ago.  They  seemed  so 
much  more  desolate  when  connected  with  the 
thought  that  Ruth  was  to  live  in  them.  There  was 
the  little  gas-stove,  the  second-hand  desk,  and  the 
home-made  bookcase  with  its  curtains  of  chintz. 

"  All  of  our  pretty  things  belonged  to  Marjorie," 
said  Elizabeth,  briskly,  "  and  she  had  to  take  them 
away  with  her,  because  the  inevitable  aunt  wanted 
them  for  her  parlor.  Of  course  she 's  been  good  to 
Marjorie,  and  ought  to  have  the  things,  but  it  makes 
the  room  look  rather  bare." 

Christine  tried  to  remember  if  she  had  ever  seen 
anything  pretty  about  the  room,  and  decided  that 
she  did  not  know  what  Elizabeth  meant. 

That  afternoon  she  sent  Ruth  out  to  drive  with 
Clare;  Elizabeth  was  off  tutoring  somewhere,  and 
she  had  the  field  to  herself.  First  she  engaged 
an  express  cart,  stripped  her  room  of  everything 
which  was  portable,  and  had  it  carried  down  to  the 
lodging-house  of  Mrs.  Barstow.  She  hung  the  famil- 
iar pictures  upon  the  walls,  festooned  red  cheesecloth 
in  a  marvellous  manner,  so  as  to  conceal  holes  and 
cracks  in  the  plastering,  and  put  divan  covers  on  both 
beds.  She  placed  the  "  Narcissus "  upon  a  new 
little  table  in  the  corner,  and  stood  off  to  look  at  him. 
She  discovered  that  the  sewing-machine  was  rented 
by  the  week  from  Mrs.  Barstow,  and  arranged  to 
make  it  a  permanent  feature  of  the  establishment 
upstairs.  When  everything  was  finished,  she  went 
wearily  forth  again,  bought  a  little  set  of  china, 
ordered  a  supper  to  be  sent  in,  and  placed  flowers 
on  the  table. 

Elizabeth  Dane  was  the  first  to  return.     Her  shoes 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

were  muddy,  for  she  had  walked  over  to  a  school  in 
Hadley  to  make  arrangements  for  teaching  there  two 
afternoons  in  the  week,  and  they  were  not  going  to 
pay  her  so  much  as  she  had  hoped.  When  she  saw 
the  "  Narcissus"  and  the  flowers  and  the  other 
things,  she  began  to  weep,  and  said  that  Christine 
should  take  them  all  back  again.  But  Christine 
pulled  off  the  muddy  boots,  pushed  a  piece  of  cake 
into  Elizabeth's  mouth,  and  said  that  if  she,  Elsie, 
cared  for  her,  Christine,  she  would  retract  those 
unkind  words  about  taking  them  back. 

Soon  Clare  and  Ruth  came  in,  for  Clare  was  in  the 
plot,  and  had  received  instructions  not  to  return 
before  six  o'clock,  and  there  was  a  merry,  tearful, 
affectionate  time,  which  may  have  been  silly,  but  was 
certainly  a  credit  to  every  one  of  them. 

"  Come,  Elsie,  you  're  neglecting  your  duty  as 
hostess,"  said  Christine,  as  Ruth  embraced  the  "  Nar- 
cissus," and  vowed  that  he  should  be  sent  back  the 
next  day.  "  Supper  is  on  the  table,  and  the  oysters 
are  getting  cold." 

"  Christine  Arnold,  do  you  mean  to  say  that  you 
have  actually  invested  in  oysters?  "  exclaimed  Eliza- 
beth, lifting  the  cover  of  a  dish.  "Ah!  sweet-breads 
and  French  peas!  If  it  is  not  good  to  be  alive.  And 
cream  celery !  Christine,  I  'm  almost  sure  that  I 
saw  a  can  of  ice-cream  in  the  hall  downstairs.  Tell 
me  if  I  did." 

"  They  sent  it  over  too  early,  then,"  laughed 
Christine,  "  but  now  for  chapter  one."  And  the 
party  of  four  sat  down  to  the  dearest,  merriest,  most 
pathetic  little  supper  that  ever  was  given  in  Harland 
College. 

152 


"WHAT   IT   MEANS  TO   BE   FRIENDS" 

After  everything  eatable  had  disappeared,  the  girls 
brought  out  a  schedule,  and  discussed  electives,  for 
recitations  did  not  begin  until  to-morrow,  and  no  one 
had  any  studying  to  do.  It  was  a  delightful  evening, 
although  Ruth  had  to  stop  talking  now  and  then, 
because  her  voice  would  tremble ;  and  when  it  was 
all  over,  Clare  and  Christine  walked  home  together 
through  the  warm  September  night 

"  She  never  suspected  anything, —  the  dear !  "  said 
Clare.  "  She  thought  that  it  was  I  who  asked  her  to 
drive." 

They  did  not  feel  like  saying  very  much,  and  when 
Christine  reached  the  door  of  Number  2  Hadley,  she 
stopped  and  waited  for  a  minute,  before  she  opened  it. 
It  was  dark  and  desolate  and  bare,  the  pretty  room 
that  had  always  been  so  full  of  light  and  flowers. 
But  there  was  no  Ruth  here  now,  and  nothing  to 
make  one  feel  at  home. 

"  I  am  a  pig !  "  said  Christine,  thoughtfully,  "  I  was 
always  a  pig;  "  and  she  sat  down,  like  "  His  Wife's 
Father  "  on  a  left-over  dry-goods  box,  in  the  middle 
of  the  room. 

The  next  morning  chapel  was  crowded,  and  they 
sang,  "If  o'er  unruffled  seas  towards  heaven  we 
calmly  sail,"  a  favorite  hymn  with  all  the  girls,  but 
Christine  thought  that  it  did  not  apply  to  any  one 
she  knew!  The  opening  exercises  were  more  seri- 
ous than  usual,  for  the  members  of  Ninety-four  felt 
their  responsibility  as  Seniors,  and  Ninety-six  had 
resolved  to  be  better  Sophomores  than  some  other 
people  whom  they  might  have  mentioned.  Every 
one  extended  a  helping  hand  to  pretty  Ninety-seven, 
which  had  already  begun  to  cherish  an  unreasonable 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

admiration  for  the  class  of  Ninety-five.  In  fact,  the 
whole  college  was  watching  with  uncertainty  to  see 
what  Ninety-five  would  do  next ;  and  in  a  very  few 
days  it  found  out. 

The  Juniors  proclaimed  new  principles  of  rigorous 
discipline,  and  began  to  "  bring  up  "  the  Freshmen  ! 
They  obtained  permission  from  the  President  to 
prevent  students  from  taking  books  into  chapel, 
and  every  morning  two  Juniors  stood  outside  the 
door  to  see  that  this  rule  was  enforced.  It  was  a 
good  rule,  because  it  insured  exemplary  behavior 
during  the  exercises,  and  the  upper-class  girls  were 
delighted  with  it.  Then  came  the  Junior  presiden- 
tial election,  which  was  a  source  of  interest  to  many 
people,  because  it  was  uncertain  which  way  it  would 
turn.  The  two  final  candidates  were  Ardis  Hatha- 
way and  Christine  Arnold,  and  as  the  friends  of  one 
were  the  friends  of  both,  no  one  seemed  to  know 
how  she  ought  to  vote. 

"  I  think  Christine  would  make  the  best  President," 
said  Mildred  Wyman,  who  was  in  the  Marston,  "  but 
I  won't  vote  against  Ardis  Hathaway,  so  I  'm  out  of 
it." 

*'  There  is  no  doubt  about  who  wants  it  most,"  said 
Kate  Dervish,  with  a  laugh ;  and  Philippa  Fairbank 
added,  "  No,  I  really  do  not  think  that  Miss  Arnold 
would  object  to  the  position !  " 

It  was  true  that  this  unexpected  nomination  had 
aroused  a  storm  of  class  loyalty  and  ambition  in 
Christine,  which  she  did  not  try  to  conceal.  It  was 
such  a  violent  reaction  from  the  experience  of  her 
Sophomore  year  that  at  first  she  could  not  realize 
what  it  meant.  "  Is  it  possible  that  Ninety-five  still 


"WHAT   IT   MEANS  TO   BE   FRIENDS" 

wants  me?"  she  thought.  "Does  it  think  that  I 
could  be  an  honor  to  my  class?" 

She  regained  all  her  old  vivacity  and  enthusiasm 
in  a  few  days,  although  she  kept  saying  to  herself, 
"  I  shall  not  get  it,  I  know  I  cannot  get  it.  I  must 
not  let  myself  think  that  I  shall  get  it." 

The  other  candidate  had  said  from  the  first  that 
she  did  not  care  for  the  position;  but  Christine 
worked  for  her  loyally,  until  Ardis  herself  asked  her, 
with  some  impatience,  to  desist. 

"  I  don't  want  it,"  she  said ;  "  it  would  bore  me  to 
death,  and  in  fact  I  won't  have  it.  You  had  much 
better  take  it  when  you  can  get  it,  Christabel,  for 
such  a  thing  is  not  always  to  be  had  for  the  asking !  " 

Christine  was  touched,  and  yet  wondered  that 
Ardis  should  give  up  such  an  opportunity  without 
a  struggle.  It  was  another  of  her  eccentricities,  no 
doubt,  for  one  could  never  tell  what  she  would  do. 
"  But  it  is  so  unlike  her  not  to  want  it,"  Christine 
thought,  "  she  is  fond  of  having  power,  and  likes  to 
exercise  it.  I  wonder  —  " 

She  went  down  to  see  Ardis  that  afternoon,  and  said : 
"  It  has  occurred  to  me  that  you  may  be  withholding 
yourself  from  this  position,  because  —  well,  because 
you  want  me  to  have  it.  Ardis,  tell  me,  is  that  true?  " 

Ardis'  face  never  changed,  and  she  continued  to 
look  at  Christine  with  those  impenetrable  eyes. 

"  I  say  that  I  don't  want  it,  because  I  don't  want 
it,"  she  answered.  "  What  would  be  the  use  of  de- 
ception in  such  a  matter?  Life  is  too  short,  as  well 
as  too  ridiculous,  to  make  a  fuss  about  little  things ; 
and  in  a  hundred  years  from  now,  what  difference  will 
it  make  what  girl  we  had  for  a  President?  " 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

"  Everything  makes  a  difference  !  "  said  Christine ; 
but  she  was  too  much  excited  to  discuss  the  philos- 
ophy of  the  situation,  and  went  away  satisfied  that 
Ardis  did  not  care  about  the  election,  after  all. 

"  And  if  I  should  get  it,"  she  thought  pitifully,  "  I 
think  it  would  make  me  feel  more  worthy  —  no,  not 
really  worthy,  but  more  worthy  of  papa  and  the 
boys." 

When  she  had  gone,  Clare  slipped  into  the  room 
and  put  her  arms  around  Ardis'  neck. 

The  election  was  held  in  the  old  Gymnasium,  and 
when  the  Juniors  went  upstairs,  they  were  obliged  to 
make  their  way  through  a  little  group  of  Seniors  and 
Sophomores  who  were  waiting  in  the  lower  hall,  to 
hear  what  President  would  be  chosen  by  the  class  of 
Ninety-five.  Ardis  and  Christine  were  almost  the 
last  to  arrive.  They  came  over  the  campus,  arm  in 
arm,  as  they  always  did,  and  spoke  to  some  of  the 
girls  in  the  hall  before  going  upstairs. 

"  It  seems  to  have  made  no  difference  in  their 
friendship,"  said  one  of  the  Seniors;  and  a  little 
Sophomore  who  had  been  considering  the  question 
for  some  time  said,  "  Perhaps  that 's  what  it  means 
to  be  friends !  " 

The  voting  was  very  close,  and  the  girls  outside 
waited  in  vain  for  the  customary  burst  of  applause. 
The  first  ballot  had  resulted  in  a  small  majority  for 
Ardis,  and  the  last  two  had  ended  with  a  tie. 

"  This  will  never  do,"  said  Elsie  Dane,  rapping 
impatiently  on  the  table;  "you  know  we  must  have  a 
two-thirds  vote,  to  elect  the  President,  and  at  present 
we  are  no  nearer  to  deciding  the  matter  than  we  were 
when  we  came  in." 

156 


"WHAT   IT   MEANS  TO   BE   FRIENDS" 

There  was  a  buzz  of  excitement  in  the  back  of  the 
room,  and  Elizabeth  thought  that  an  element  of  rage 
was  creeping  into  the  discussion. 

"  I  understood  that  Ardis  had  decided  not  to  run 
for  President,"  said  Kathleen,  indignantly,  to  a  Mars- 
ton  House  girl.  "  Did  she  tell  you  all  to  work  for 
her?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Miss  Bentley,  with  dig- 
nity ;  "  but  when  we  all  said  that  we  were  working  for 
her,  she  did  not  tell  us  to  stop." 

"  She  knew  that  we  were  working  for  her,"  said 
Mildred  Wyman.  "  Of  course  she  knew  that  the 
whole  Marston  would  go  for  her,  and  the  Lathrop 
too,  being  so  near,  and  then  she  has  friends  in  the 
Warren." 

"  Three  houses  won't  carry  an  election,  girl !  "  said 
Kathleen,  forgetting  to  be  polite,  "  and  I  myself  have 
canvassed  every  other  house  on  the  campus, — 
Storey,  Wyndham,  Warren  —  hm-m,  I  forgot  the 
Fairbank  contingent  in  the  Warren." 

"  The  Fairbank  contingent  controls  a  number  of 
votes,  however,"  said  Philippa,  who  had  been  listen- 
ing to  the  conversation.  "  I  suppose  you  will  con- 
cede us  the  enviable  privilege  of  voting  for  whom 
we  like." 

"  Vote  for  your  grandmother !  "  said  Kathleen,  in  a 
blaze  of  wrath.  "It  is  not  the  class  of  Ninety-five 
that  would  demean  itself  by  accepting  any  vote  from 
you  with  regard  to  any  matter." 

"Are  all  the  votes  in?"  called  Elizabeth,  from  the 
platform ;  and  when  some  had  answered  "  Yes,"  she 
said,  "The  polls  are  closed." 

Ruth   and   Rachel   Winter  were   distributing  the 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

significant  bits  of  white  paper  among  the  girls,  and 
Kathleen  insisted  upon  knowing  what  they  had  dis- 
covered on  their  rounds. 

"  As  far  as  I  can  find  out,"  said  Ruth,  "  the  girls 
who  know  both  of  them  well,  are  voting  for  Christine, 
and  the  girls  who  live  off  the  campus,  or  who  don't 
know  either  of  them,  are  voting  for  Ardis." 

"  The  freak  faction  is  going  strong  for  Ardis,"  said 
Rachel,  with  emphasis.  "  They  say  that  they  do  not 
want  a  '  society  girl '  for  their  President ;  but  I  'd  like 
to  know  if  Ardis  is  n't  even  more  in  the  rush  than 
Christine,  and  every  one  knows  what  a  good  student 
Christine  is." 

"  They  don't  know  what  they  do  want,"  said  Ruth, 
indignantly,  "  but  I  wish  they  'd  decide  upon  some- 
body before  to-morrow  morning.  Look  at  those  dear 
children  sitting  there  together  as  if  nothing  was  going 
on !  I  don't  think  that  I  ever  admired  any  two  crea- 
tures so  much  in  my  life." 

Christine  and  Ardis  were  engaged  in  discussing 
"  The  Deemster,"  and  had  just  begun  to  disagree 
about  the  character  of  "  Danny,"  when  the  President 
arose  from  her  chair  and  said,  "  Miss  Arnold  has 
sixty-five  votes,  Miss  Hathaway  fifty-one." 

Christine  turned  very  white,  and  Ardis  tried  to 
appear  unconcerned,  but  a  look  flashed  over  her  face 
which  Christine  had  never  seen  before.  She  told 
Ruth  afterwards  :  "  It  was  as  if  the  shadow  of  some 
horrible  wriggling  thing  had  passed  over  her  face,  and 
then  left  it  just  as  it  was  before.  For  a  minute  I  did 
not  know  her."  But  Christine  knew  herself,  and 
before  Elizabeth  could  call  in  another  ballot,  she  had 
risen  to  her  feet. 

158 


"WHAT   IT   MEANS  TO   BE   FRIENDS" 

"  Miss  President,"  she  said,  "  I  move  that  the  vote 
be  made  unanimous  in  favor  of  Miss  Hathaway." 

Ardis  sprang  up  beside  her  and  said,  "  Christabel, 
you  sha'n't  do  it !  " 

Elsie  Dane  looked  ready  to  cry,  but  said,  "  This 
proceeding  is  entirely  unconstitutional.  Is  any  one 
ready  to  second  Miss  Arnold's  motion?  " 

There  was  no  response,  and  after  a  moment  of 
silence  she  asked  again,  "  Is  any  one  ready  to  second 
the  motion?  " 

Christine  turned  slowly  around  until  her  eyes  met 
Ruth's,  and  Ruth  did  as  she  was  told,  because  that 
look  had  trusted  her. 

"  I  second  the  motion,"  she  said  quietly ;  and  for 
a  minute  the  echo  of  a  footstep  over  by  Lincoln 
Hall  could  be  distinctly  heard  throughout  the  room. 
Some  one  laughed  in  the  road  outside,  Elizabeth 
Dane  began  to  speak,  —  stopped  to  steady  her  voice, 
and  then  said,  "Will  all  those  who  are  in  favor  of 
this  motion  signify  it  by  saying  '  Aye '  ?  " 

Christine's  friends  were  terribly  disappointed,  but 
they  loved  her  enough  to  do  as  she  wished  ;  and  while 
the  two  girls  stood  there  arm  in  arm  before  their 
class,  Ardis  was  elected  President  of  Ninety-five. 
The  meeting  broke  up  then ;  but  as  Ruth  said  after- 
wards to  a  Senior  friend,  "  We  were  most  of  us  pretty 
well  broken  up  before  that." 

Ardis  was  overwhelmed  with  congratulations  from 
enthusiastic  Seniors,  admiring  under-class  girls,  and 
members  of  her  own  class  who  had  voted  against  her, 
not  because  they  wanted  her  less,  but  because  they 
wanted  Christine  more. 

"  How  beautiful  she  will  look  at  the  Junior-Senior 
'59 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

reception !  "  said  Christine,  as  Ruth  and  Kathleen 
escorted  her  home ;  and  suddenly  Ruth  remembered 
that  she  had  never  before  heard  Christine  allude  in 
any  way  to  the  beauty  of  her  friend.  She  had 
spoken  of  her  fine  mind,  oT  her  high  principles,  and 
of  her  unusual  gifts,  but  never  before  of  her  beauty. 
Ruth  wondered  if  there  were  not  something  signifi- 
cant in  the  fact  that  she  mentioned  it  now. 

"  What  I  don't  like  about  Ardis,"  said  Kathleen, 
"  is  that  she  had  people  working  for  her  in  every 
direction,  and  then  gave  out  that  she  would  n't  be 
hired  to  run  for  President." 

"  How  dare  you  imply  that  Ardis  would  be  dis- 
honorable?" said  Christine,  fiercely.  "She  told  me 
herself  that  she  did  not  want  —  I  don't  believe  that 
she  asked  people  to  work  for  her.  It  would  be  im- 
possible. And  even  if  she  asked  them  not  to,  they 
would  n't  stop  for  what  she  said." 

"  For  my  part,  dear,"  said  Ruth,  "  I  would  like 
to  shake  you,  if,  unfortunately,  you  had  not  made 
me  love  you  more  than  ever  before." 

"  And  I  myself  should  enjoy  throwing  you  over  a 
wall,"  said  Kathleen,  amiably,  "  if  it  was  n't  that  so 
doing  would  make  you  on  the  other  side  of  it  from 
me!" 

When  Christine  reached  her  room,  she  was  much 
cheered  by  finding  an  anonymous  plate  of  ploughed 
field,  sticky,  voluminous,  comforting,  upon  her  bed, 
and  it  was  labelled,  "  For  the  finest  girl  in  Ninety- 
five  !  " 

That  night  Ardis  could  not  sleep,  and  Clare  was 
unable  to  comfort  her. 

"  It  is  all  wrong,"  she  cried.     "  It  is  all,  all  wrong ! 
160 


"WHAT   IT   MEANS  TO   BE   FRIENDS" 

But  I  did  try  to  give  it  up  to  her.  You  know  that  I 
tried,  and  when  the  time  came,  I  was  weak  and 
could  n't.  No,  I  could  n't,  because  I  had  not  the 
courage  to  be  defeated.  Clare,  if  you  knew  me  as  I 
am,  you  would  not  come  near  me." 

"You  could  not  both  be  elected,"  said  Clare,  quietly, 
"  and  one  of  you  had  to  withdraw." 

"  Yes ;  and  I  let  the  younger  one  do  it.  I  let 
Christine,  after —  Oh,  Clare,  the  shadows  in  me  are 
deeper  than  I  knew.  Oh,  I  hate  myself,  for  I  am  a 
coward,  —  a  coward,  a  coward  !  " 

And  that  night,  and  the  days  that  followed,  brought 
no  joy  to  the  President  of  Ninety-five. 


161 


CHAPTER  XII 

A    COLLEGE   SUNDAY 

SUNDAY  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  Saturday 
night,  and  on  the  south  by  Monday  morning,  so  it  is 
natural  that  one  should  remember  these  two  boun- 
daries in  recalling  the  characteristics  of  a  certain  day. 

Christine  had  spent  a  restless  Saturday  evening  on 
the  back  campus,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  five  different 
people  had  invited  her  to  open  meeting  of  Phi  Delta 
Kappa,  and  there  was  to  be  a  lecture  by  Professor 
Waring  Sims  on  "  The  Rise  of  the  Drama."  But  she 
happened  to  be  in  a  wild,  unliterary  mood,  and  pre- 
ferred to  investigate  the  darkness  of  the  campus,  with 
its  uncertain  slopes  and  many  winding  paths.  Her 
love  of  darkness  was  inexplicable  to  people  who 
could  not  understand  the  joy  of  being  out  alone  with 
the  strange  night-cries  and  the  great  sighing  trees; 
but  Christine  had  found  the  answer  to  many  questions 
in  the  companionship  of  trees,  and  they  had  been  her 
friends  from  the  time  when  she  was  young  enough  to 
live  in  them,  like  a  little  dryad,  and  be  tossed  in  their 
strong  arms.  She  made  new  acquaintances  in  every 
place,  and  her  calling-list  was  large;  but  the  most 
cordial  of  all  the  tree-friends  lived  on  the  back 
campus  at  college.  She  liked  to  start  out  at  night, 
when  it  was  so  dark  that  she  had  to  guide  herself  by 

162 


A   COLLEGE   SUNDAY 

the  rough  gravel  of  the  paths,  and  when  the  trees 
were  nothing  but  mysterious  sounds.  This  evening, 
as  she  passed  the  Marston,  its  great  elm  was  swirling 
in  wind  and  shadow;  but  one  branch  caught  the 
light  from  the  kitchen  window,  and  looked  as  if  it  had 
been  hung  with  tiny  lanterns. 

"  I  will  come  over  to-morrow,"  she  thought,  "  and 
ask  Clare."  But  she  could  not  have  told  what  it  was 
that  she  wanted  to  ask.  She  only  knew  that  it  was 
something  about  the  Great  Reason  Why. 

The  next  morning  was  perfect,  for  the  month  of 
October  likes  to  make  Sunday  a  day  for  knowing  God 
out  of  doors,  a  time  for  seeking  Him  through  the 
mysteries  of  air  and  light ;  and  the  girls  who  went  for 
early  walks  came  in  with  those  very  mysteries  of  light 
in  their  eyes. 

When  prayer-meeting  at  the  Hadley  was  over, 
Christine  started  out  "  to  ask  Clare ;  "  and  first  she 
passed  the  Warren,  where  they  were  singing,  "  Oh, 
love  divine,  that  stooped  to  share ;  "  then  the  Lathrop, 
where  she  heard,  "  Lord,  Thy  glory  fills  the  heavens ;  " 
and  it  took  her  back  to  Freshman  year,  when  all 
things  were  possible  and  disappointments  had  not 
come.  At  the  Marston  they  were  singing,  "  In  the 
hour  of  trial,  Jesus,  plead  for  me ;  "  and  she  slipped 
up  to  Clare's  room,  where  the  hymn  stayed  with  her 
until  Clare  came. 

"  Christine,  you  dear  morning  bird,"  she  cried,  when 
she  opened  the  door,  "  I  was  just  about  to  hie  me 
across  the  campus  and  ask  you  down  to  dinner, 
and,  behold,  here  you  are.  Our  conversational  talent 
is  going  out  to  dine  at  the  Wyndham,  but  if  you  won't 
find  it  too  dull  without  her,  we  want  you  to  come." 

163 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"If  'we'  means  you,  I  will  come,"  said  Christine, 
laughing;  "I  want  to  see  you,  Clare." 

"Do  you,  really?  Why,  how  nice,  how  abso- 
lutely dear  in  you  !  I  was  afraid  you  would  think  it 
a  bore." 

She  began  to  put  the  room  in  order,  and  said  with 
a  laugh  :  "  Ardis  and  Maude  Gilbert  are  having  break- 
fast in  Maude's  room,  and  they  Ve  borrowed  all  my 
dishes,  to  say  nothing  of  my  table  linen  and  hard- 
ware. I  only  hope  they  '11  bring  them  back,  and  I 
also  hope  that  they'll  wash  them  first." 

"Do  you  like  Maude  Gilbert?"  asked  Christine, 
who  enjoyed  hearing  Clare  evade  a  question  of  this 
kind. 

"  No,"  was  the  quick  answer ;  and  then  she  added : 
"  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  say  that.  No,  I  suppose 
that  I  ought  not  to  have  said  it;  but  I  can't  help 
thinking  that  Maude's  influence  upon  Ardis  is  not 
very  good." 

"  Do  you  think  that  Ardis  is  particularly  amenable 
to  influence?  It  seems  to  me  that  the  utmost  one 
could  do  would  be  to  take  the  bad  part  of  her 
aside,  and  ask  it,  as  a  special  favor,  not  to  interfere 
with  the  good." 

Clare  laughed.  "  Well,  perhaps  you  are  right,  but 
it  worries  me  a  little." 

"  Don't  make  other  people  so  much  a  part  of  your- 
self, child.  Try  to  remember  that  sympathy  is  quite 
fatal  to  happiness." 

"  Oh,  but  I  am  happy,"  said  Clare,  with  a  smile, 
"and  one  likes  to  be  sympathetic,  now  that  Christ 
has  been  born." 

"  You  speak  as  if  that  happened  yesterday,  Clare." 
164 


A   COLLEGE   SUNDAY 

"  It  happens  every  day,  does  n't  it?  " 

"  Not  with  everybody.  I  think  that  the  real  love 
of  Christ,  the  knowledge  of  his  personality,  is  born  in 
a  person,  like  a  talent,  and  cannot  be  acquired." 

"  Then  you  think  it  is  not  necessary  for  two  people 
to  know  each  other  in  order  to  become  friends?" 

"  Tangible  friendships  are  different,"  said  Christine. 

"  But  friendship  itself  is  not  tangible.  Our  love  for 
our  friends  is  part  of  the  same  material  with  which  we 
love  God." 

"  And  do  you  really  love  God  ?  What  do  you  mean 
by  the  word  God,  Clare  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  it,  Christine  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  but  please  don't  think  I  'm  an 
Atheist,  or  anything  of  that  kind.  I  believe,  of  course, 
that  there  must  have  been  an  original  plan,  but  some- 
how I  Ve  missed  —  the  friendliness  of  it  all." 

"  What  do  you  consider  the  greatest  thing  in  the 
universe  ?  There  must  be  some  one  thing  that  you 
respect  most  of  all." 

"  Why,  —  force,"  answered  Christine,  after  a  pause. 
"  Force  is  what  moves  the  world." 

"  Well,  and  is  n't  there  something  besides  force  in 
our  great  working  apparatus?  Force  is  what  makes 
a  horse  run  away ;  and  a  greater  quantity  of  the  same 
quality  would  make  the  world  run  away." 

"  I  suppose  there  must  be  some  restraining  power, 
some  kind  of  unity,"  admitted  Christine,  "  but  force 
and  unity  cannot  make  a  God." 

"  I  don't  know  what  else  they  could  make.  Unity, 
which  means  the  one,  combined  with  force,  which 
means  the  activity  of  all.  What  greater  God  could 
one  have  ?  " 

165 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"But  that  does  not  include  intelligence,  or  that 
quality  of  love  which  you  attribute  to  the  God  you 
know." 

"  I  do  not  think  that  unity  and  force  have  ever  been 
combined,  without  the  assistance  of  intelligence  to 
begin  with.  That  order  of  things  by  which  every 
trivial  part  works  in  relation  to  one  magnificent  whole, 
and  never  forgets,  never  goes  wrong  —  " 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Maude  Gilbert 
came  in,  bringing  Clare's  household  belongings,  which 
consisted  of  three  plates  and  a  saucer,  one  red  napkin, 
and  a  kerosene  stove. 

"  Thank  you  very  much  for  the  use  of  them,"  she 
said.  "  If  you  had  known  how  good  our  breakfast 
was,  you  would  n't  have  thrown  us  over  for  a  prayer- 
meeting." 

"  It  was  n't  that  I  would  n't  rather  have  had  the 
breakfast,"  said  Clare,  honestly;  "  but,  you  see,  I  was 
needed  at  the  prayer-meeting." 

"  You  would  have  been  willing  to  do  the  wrong 
thing,  then,  if  there  had  been  anybody  to  take  your 
place  in  the  right,  was  that  it?  "  laughed  Maude,  as 
Clare  relieved  her  of  the  dishes. 

"  No,"  answered  Clare,  with  spirit ;  "  it  would  not 
have  been  wrong  for  me  to  have  breakfast  with  you 
this  morning,  if  there  had  been  any  one  else  to  play, 
but  there  was  n't,  you  know ;  so  I  had  to." 

"  After  all,"  said  Maude,  "  you  're  a  good  little  thing. 
Are  n't  you  coming  in  to  see  Ardis  this  morning, 
Miss  Arnold?  " 

"  I  came  to  see  Clare,"  answered  Christine,  who 
thought  it  was  none  of  Miss  Gilbert's  business. 

When  she  had  gone,  Clare  said :  "  It  is  the  fate  of 
1 66 


A   COLLEGE   SUNDAY 

all  arguments  in  college  to  be  interrupted.  Now, 
how  far  had  we  got  when  she  came  in?  We  were 
saying  that  —  " 

"  That  God  might  be  the  infinite  intelligence  as 
well  as  the  infinite  force,  —  but  what  I  can't  under- 
stand is  the  personal  part  of  it  all.  I  never  could 
feel  the  personality  of  God." 

"  But  you  have,"  said  Clare,  triumphantly,  "  although 
you  may  not  have  known  it.  Christine,  do  you  like 
trees?" 

"Better  than  I  like  people.  But  what  made  you 
think  of  that?" 

"Because,  next  to  people,  there  is  more  of  God 
in  trees  than  in  anything  else." 

There  was  another  knock  at  the  door,  and  Ardis 
came  in,  dressed  for  church. 

"  Good  morning,  Christabel,"  she  said.  "  I  am  sur- 
prised that  you  should  deliberately  keep  Clare  from 
attending  the  sanctuary,  when  I  know  how  firmly 
you  believe  in  having  other  people  go  to  church. 
But  if  you  are  not  going,  Clare,  may  I  borrow  your 
prayer-book?  " 

"  Why,  of  course.  No,  Christine,  it 's  all  right ;  I 
don't  want  to  go.  Oh,  Ardis,  you  are  lovely  this 
morning !  Wait  only  one  minute,  and  let  us  see 
you." 

Ardis  laughed,  for  she  knew  that  Clare  loved  her 
beauty  as  she  loved  the  trees  and  flowers  and  sky, 
and  remembered  that  she  had  once  said,  "  It  does 
not  belong  to  you  at  all,  but  to  God." 

Her  dress  this  morning  was  long  and  close-fitting, 
of  black  cloth  trimmed  with  tan,  and  she  wore  a  large 
black  hat,  with  a  soft  crown  and  two  or  three  curling 

167 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

feathers.  Her  face  behind  the  veil  was  fair  and  sweet, 
and  the  two  girls  who  looked  at  her  knew  that  she 
was  like  music.  "  I  am  coming  back  from  the  Wynd- 
ham  at  three  o'clock,"  she  said,  drawing  on  her  gloves, 
"  and  Christine  is  going  to  walk  out  to  the  bridge 
with  me,  aren't  you,  Christabel?  Good-bye,  chil- 
dren. I  'm  sure  that  I  know  what  you  were  talking 
about ;  "  and  she  softly  closed  the  door  behind  her, 
leaving  in  the  room  that  effect  of  vanished  sunshine 
which  some  unworthy  people  are  destined  to  produce. 

"  Sometimes  when  Ardis  leaves  me  I  cannot  help 
rushing  out  to  call  her  back,"  said  Clare,  "  and  when 
she  asks,  '  What  do  you  want  of  me? '  I  can  only  say, 
'  Nothing ;  '  and  then  she  laughs." 

A  shadow  had  passed  over  Christine's  face,  but  she 
asked,  "  Why  did  you  say  that  we  could  find  God  in 
trees,  Clare?  " 

"  The  thankfulness  that  we  feel  in  having  the  trees 
to  look  at  is  to  love  God,"  was  the  answer.  "  I 
believe  that  we  will  never  be  able  to  live  without 
God  in  great  joy,  because  you  see  it  is  necessary  to 
have  some  one  to  thank.  The  people  who  really  do 
not  feel  God  must  be  the  people  who  find  no  beauty 
in  this  beautiful  world." 

"  Where  did  you  get  your  philosophy,  Clare?" 

"  Out  of  doors,  mostly ;  but  it  has  all  been  found 
and  thought  before." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that ;  but  I  'm  glad  that  you 
are  willing  to  tell  me  your  reasons  for  things.  I  was 
afraid  that  you  might  be  like  a  little  star  that 
could  n't  give  the  recipe  for  its  own  light." 

"There  is  more  to  a  star  than  its  silence,"  said 
Clare,  looking  amused;  "so  you  must  n't  say  that  I 

168 


A  COLLEGE  SUNDAY 

am  like  one,  only  because  I  don't  talk  all  the  time. 
But  I  've  always  thought  that  even  if  the  spiritual 
part  of  ourselves  can  live  on  faith  alone,  the  material 
side  demands  reason ;  and  it  is  only  when  faith  and 
reason  are  combined  that  we  learn  to  understand  the 
'  friendliness  of  it  all.'  " 

There  came  another  knock,  and  Clare  said,  "  Don't 
be  discouraged,  Christine.  Come  in  !  " 

The  intruder  was  Leonora  Kent,  one  of  those  quietly 
persistent  workers  who  are  seldom  known  by  their 
fellow-students  until  the  last,  —  when  some  one  acci- 
dentally discovers  that  they  have  taken  the  highest 
marks.  She  was  part  of  the  steady  and  sturdy 
material  on  which  the  success  of  a  brilliant  class  is 
always  founded,  and  one  of  the  people  who  helped 
prove  from  day  to  day  that  Ana  (upward),  their 
class  motto,  had  meant  something  to  the  girls  of 
Ninety-five. 

"  I  came  to  see  if  you  and  Ardis  could  help  us  at 
the  little  chapel  to-night,"  she  said.  "If  Ardis  would 
only  sing  something,  and  you  would  play,  we  could 
have  a  delightful  meeting." 

"  I  can't  promise  for  Ardis,"  said  Clare,  "  but  I 
think  she  will  do  it ;  and  I  '11  come  anyhow,  Leonora, 
if  I  can  be  of  the  least  use." 

"  You  are  a  comfort,"  was  the  grateful  answer.  "  It 
is  really  discouraging  sometimes,  or  would  be,  if 
there  were  not  always  a  few  people  like  you  in  the 
world." 

"  I  don't  believe  you  know  about  the  chapel,"  said 
Clare,  turning  to  Christine.  "  Tell  her,  Nora." 

"  Why,  there  is  n't  much  to  tell,"  began  Miss  Kent, 
"  but  you  know  that  the  French  quarter  up  there  by 

169 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

the  Hospital  is  —  well,  they  don't  go  to  church  very 
often,  and  there  is  a  little  forsaken  chapel  there  that 
we  are  allowed  to  use.  So  every  Sunday  afternoon 
we  —  I  mean  Beatrice  Adams  and  Philippa  Fairbank 
and  a  few  others  —  hold  little  services  there  for  the 
children  who  cannot  come  down  into  the  town.  At 
first  it  was  hard  work,  for  nobody  came ;  but  now  we 
are  getting  more  and  more,  and  it  is  so  dear  to  hear 
them  sing." 

"  They  also  have  musical  meetings,  parents  in- 
cluded, every  third  Sunday  night,"  added  Clare.  "  I 
sha'n't  allow  Leonora  to  omit  her  own  statistics." 

"  The  right  hand  of  this  glorious  college  does  not 
know  what  the  left  hand  does,"  said  Christine,  with 
enthusiasm.  "  Leonora,  I  never  suspected  that  we 
had  a  philanthropist  on  the  ball  team." 

"  Some  of  the  Sophomores  are  helping  us  now," 
said  Leonora,  "  and  we  are  so  glad,  because  they  will 
be  likely  to  keep  it  up  after  we're  gone.  Come  and 
see  us  some  time,  Christine.  It's  a  dismal  enough 
place,  or  I  should  have  invited  you  before." 

"  Did  you  think  that  misery  and  I  could  not  agree?  " 
asked  Christine,  with  a  smile.  "  There  you  are  wrong. 
But  I  '11  come  up  to-night,  Nora,  if  I  may.  And  if 
there  is  anything  that  you  need,  I  do  hope  you  will 
let  me  know." 

"  '  Anything  that  we  need,' "  repeated  Leonora ; 
and  then  she  flushed. 

"They  have  scarcely  any  hymn-books,"  said  Clare, 
pitifully,  "  and  the  plaster  will  keep  falling  down  from 
the  ceiling ;  and  they  have  no  pictures  on  the  walls 
—  not  a  one." 

"  Oh,"  said  Christine,  "  Leonora,  why  have  n't  you 
170 


A  COLLEGE   SUNDAY 

told  every  one  in  the  college  about  this?  Why 
have  n't  you  asked  us  all  to  help  you  ? " 

"  Because  we  did  not  want  to  beg.  Our  time  was 
our  own,  to  dispose  of  as  we  liked,  and  that  we  could 
give ;  but  we  made  up  our  minds,  from  the  first,  that 
we  would  n't  ask  for  money." 

Christine's  feelings  were  so  perturbed  by  all  this, 
that  she  hastily  arose  and  went  home,  having  pre- 
viously explained  that  she  was  coming  back  to  the 
Marston  for  dinner. 

"  I  suppose  that  Leonora  represents  what  is  called 
the  '  freak  faction '  in  our  class,"  she  thought,  with  a 
burning  spot  on  each  cheek.  "  She  is  not  in  the 
rush.  She  is  not  even  in  a  literary  society,  and  yet 
she  manages  to  exist." 

When  dinner  was  over  at  the  Marston,  Clare  asked 
a  few  of  the  girls  to  come  into  her  room,  and  have 
some  fresh  gingersnaps,  which  had  come  from  home 
yesterday,  in  company  with  a  new  dress.  They  were 
all  girls  whom  Christine  liked,  and  while  Clare  made 
the  tea,  they  discussed  the  first  number  of  the 
"  Prism,"  —  their  college  magazine,  which  had  just 
been  started,  under  the  auspices  of  Miss  Carlisle. 

"  The  '  Prism '  has  as  good  a  staff  of  editors  as 
could  be  expected,  when  one  considers  that  it  is  '  con- 
ducted by  the  Senior  Class,'  "  said  Mildred  Wyman, 
cracking  a  gingersnap.  "  But  I  wish  that  Miss  Car- 
lisle had  n't  made  '  our  Maude  '  editor-in-chief." 

"  Our  Maude  is  a  very  bright  girl,  nevertheless," 
said  Faith  Bentley;  "and  no  one  could  say  that  her 
editorial  is  not  original." 

"  I  am  particularly  proud  of  the  alumnae  depart- 
ment "  said  Christine,  passing  the  sugar.  "  It  is  like 

171 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

a  genial  little  college  cemetery,  in  which  we  shall  all 
meet  when  we  are  things  of  the  past." 

"Are  you  taking  Junior  Lit?"  asked  Faith,  turn- 
ing to  Christine. 

"  Now,  Fay,  you  did  that  on  purpose,"  said  Florence 
Homer.  "  You  want  to  lead  up  to  the  fact  that 
Madame  Rigault  called  me  a  '  silly  little  girl '  this 
morning  before  the  whole  class ! " 

"  Be  quiet,  Ninety-six  !  "said  Faith.  "  Nobody  gets 
through  college  without  receiving  one  or  more  insults 
from  that  dear  woman,  and  the  fact  that  you  mind 
them  proves  that  you  're  still  a  Sophomore.  When 
you  're  older  you  '11  find  that  she  does  n't  mean  a 
word  of  it." 

"  I  don't  care,  though,"  persisted  Florence.  "  I 
think  that  if  she  would  treat  the  girls  like  women, 
they  would  n't  behave  like  children." 

"That  may  be  true,"  said -Faith,  thoughtfully. 
"  But  I  like  her  just  the  same.  There 's  a  tonic 
element  about  her,  like  frosty  air  that  bites  at  the 
same  time  that  it  stimulates." 

"Yes,"  assented  Christine,  "the  keenness  of  her 
mind  always  suggests  the  sparkle  of  very  cool 
champagne." 

"  Only  it  is  n't  safe  to  pull  the  cork  unless  you 
know  your  lesson,"  said  Clare,  demurely. 

"  Don't  talk  shop,"  said  Mildred,  who  was  an  ener- 
getic young  person.  "  Besides,  it 's  Sunday.  Let 's 
organize  a  secret  society." 

"To  keep  somebody  out?"  asked  Florence;  and 
Mildred  answered,  "  Of  course." 

"  We  will  call  it  the  Society  for  Defeated  Candi- 
dates," said  Christine,  "  and  the  advantage  of  organ- 

172 


A   COLLEGE   SUNDAY 

izing  it  to-day  will  be  that  we  can  all  hold  offices. 
There  will  be  enough  to  go  around." 

Clare  took  Christine's  hand  suddenly  and  kissed 
it,  and  the  girls  said,  "  Miss  Arnold  shall  be  our 
President !  " 

"  I  was  defeated  for  President,  Freshman  year," 
objected  Mildred,  "  and  if  I  can't  be  at  least  a  Vice- 
President,  I  won't  play." 

"  I  was  defeated  for  Secretary  in  the  Symposium  " 
(the  Scientific  Society),  said  Faith.  "Doesn't  that 
count?" 

"  Let  me  be  Treasurer,"  joined  in  Florence,  "  be- 
cause somebody  said  once  that  she  thought  I  'd 
make  a  good  one." 

"  What  am  I  ?  "  asked  Clare,  meekly.  "  I  was 
never  defeated  for  anything  because  I  was  never  pro- 
posed, so  I  can't  be  in  the  society." 

"  You  shall  be  defeated  now,"  said  Christine  with 
sympathy.  "We  will  defeat  you  for  Vice-President 
so  that  you  can  be  appointed  Assistant  Treasurer. 
Friends,  I  move  that  Miss  Deland  be  elected  Vice- 
President  of  our  society.  Contrary-minded  ?  " 

"  No,"  came  in  a  unanimous  chorus.  "  Now,  Miss 
Deland,  you  are  legally  entitled  to  membership,  and 
I  hereby  appoint  you  Assistant  Treasurer  of  the 
Society  for  Defeated  Candidates,  S.  F.  D.  C.,  em- 
blem to  be  a  bit  of  sackcloth  and  an  ash." 

"  But  how  about  the  constitution?  "  inquired  Faith. 
"  Are  n't  we  going  to  have  one?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Christine.  "  I  '11  write  it  now. 
Just  wait  a  minute." 

She  went  to  Clare's  desk  and  presently  emerged 
with  the  following  document :  — 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

Article  I.  No  person  proposed  for  the  Society  can  be 
black-balled  more  than  three  times  in  the  same  week. 

Article  II.  One  person  must  be  black-balled  at  every 
meeting,  and  a  notice  of  the  same  sent  to  that  person  with- 
in two  days. 

Article  III.    The  Society  shall  have  picnics. 

"  Now,"  said  Christine,  rapping  on  the  table,  "  we 
must  black-ball  somebody  immediately.  Who  shall 
it  be?" 

"  Let  it  not  be  through  the  infamous  bean,"  said 
Faith. 

«"  I  thirst  for  blood,'  "  said  Mildred. 

"  '  I  long  for  gore/  "  said  Florence. 

"  Hear !  hear !  "  cried  the  society.  But  as  Ardis 
came  in  at  that  minute,  to  claim  Christine  for  the 
afternoon  walk,  the  Defeated  Candidates  adjourned 
without  further  ceremony. 

Christine  wondered  if  Ardis  would  say  anything 
about  the  Junior  election;  for  the  subject  had  not 
been  mentioned  between  them  since  that  memorable 
afternoon,  and  she  was  beginning  to  feel  a  little  sore. 
We  all  know  that  when  we  have  made  a  tremendous 
sacrifice  for  some  person,  our  affection  for  that  per- 
son is  sure  to  increase,  and  it  increases  inversely 
with  the  amount  of  gratitude  that  we  receive  in 
return. 

"  Christine,"  said  Ardis,  when  they  had  been  walk- 
ing for  some  time  in  silence,  "  the  most  interesting 
thing  about  life  is  to  see  how  other  people  take  it." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,"  said  Christine. 

"  Good,"  returned  Ardis,  with  a  laugh.  "  Now  that 
we  have  begun,  it  will  be  easy  to  continue.  I 


A   COLLEGE   SUNDAY 

have  been  trying  to  define  to  myself  the  different 
kinds  of  dislike  that  one  person  can  feel.  What  do 
you  think  about  it?  " 

"  I  think  that  one  kind  is  more  than  sufficient  for 
one  person,  and  that  it  should  be  the  kind  which 
leads  one  to  take  refuge  in  total  abstinence." 

"  No,"  said  Ardis,  "  I  don't  think  that  the  term 
'  dislike '  can  be  applied  to  the  feeling  that  we  have 
for  everybody." 

"  I  should  hope  not !  "  interrupted  her  companion. 

"  The  term  '  dislike,'  continued  Ardis,  "  applies  to 
the  people  whom  we  don't  respect,  and  to  those 
whom  we  find  personally  objectionable.  The  term 
'  hate  '  applies  to  antagonistic  people,  whom  we  are 
forced  to  respect,  and  to  those  whom  we  have  loved 
but  love  no  longer." 

"  Ardis,"  said  Christine,  gloomily,  "  why  all  these 
sinister  classifications?  You  used  to  laugh  at  me 
Freshman  year,  because  I  found  too  many  people 
'  personally  objectionable,'  and  yet  I  sported  but  one 
kind  of  dislike." 

"  I  laughed  at  you  because  you  disliked  them  so 
absurdly  and  ineffectually.  It  made  no  difference  to 
any  one  whether  you  disliked  her  or  not;  but  now  — 
well,  it  does  make  a  difference,  and  I,  for  one,  intend 
to  exercise  my  privileges.  It  gives  one  a  sense  of 
power." 

"  But  not  any  other  kind  of  power,"  said  Christine. 
"  Power,  Ardis,  is  the  greater  opportunity  for  doing 
good  or  ill,  —  not  a  rat-trap." 

"  You  are  looking  at  the  merely  objective  side  of 
power,  and  the  instrument  to  which  you  refer  is 
irrelevant." 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  What  I  mean,  Ardis,  is  that  power  seems  to  trap 
certain  people  in  the  meshes  of  themselves,  just  as  it 
sets  other  people  free.  But  the  world  is,  after  all,  a 
disappointing  place." 

"The  objective  side  of  power  implies  watching 
continually  to  see  what  will  happen.  It  does  not 
necessitate  much  thought." 

"  But  what  happens,  and  especially  what  has  hap- 
pened, may  be  held  responsible  for  much  of  our 
thought,  if  not  of  our  being, "  said  Christine. 
"  One  has  to  be  objective  to  get  anything  done." 

"  Being  entirely  objective  is  like  looking  out  of  the 
window  to  watch  the  carriages  go  by." 

"  It  is  n't,"  said  Christine,  exasperated  ;  "  it 's  like 
picking  out  a  carnage  with  a  good  spirited  pair  of 
horses,  and  driving  it  yourself." 

Ardis  thought  that  Christine  was  not  in  a  receptive 
mood,  and  changed  the  subject;  but  each  concluded 
that  the  other  had  deteriorated,  and  the  rest  of  their 
walk  was  not  a  success. 

When  they  reached  home  the  bell  was  ringing  for 
vespers,  and  they  slipped  into  a  back  row  of  seats, 
regardless  of  the  pretty  usher,  who  wished  to  give 
them  superior  places  in  front. 

The  President  of  Harland  is  particularly  impressive 
at  vespers,  and  the  townspeople  who  wish  to  hear 
him  are  not  always  sure  of  finding  a  seat  in  the 
crowded  hall.  Many  of  the  Wyckham  students 
come  over  to  these  services,  returning  to  their 
college  so  early  in  the  evening  that  the  matrons 
of  the  Harland  campus  do  not  feel  constrained  to 
turn  out  the  lights  before  they  are  gone.  The  music 
is  never  so  fine  as  when  united  with  the  "  funda- 

176 


A   COLLEGE   SUNDAY 

mental "  of  the  men's  voices,  and  the  whole  service 
is  so  beautiful  that  misunderstandings  soon  become 
absorbed  in  its  peaceful  atmosphere,  and  vanish  quite 
away.  The  closing  hymn  that  night  was  "  Saviour, 
again  to  thy  dear  name  we  raise,"  and  when  it  was 
finished,  the  two  big  little  girls  in  the  back  of  the  hall 
were  at  variance  no  longer. 

Ardis  sang  at  the  little  chapel  on  the  hill  that 
evening,  and  Clare  played  her  accompaniments  on  a 
wheezy  melodeon.  The  front  seats  were  filled  with 
a  rapturous  audience  of  small  children,  who  listened 
while  she  sang,  sighed  spasmodically  when  she  fin- 
ished, then  punched  each  other  in  the  ribs  and 
giggled.  Leonora  called  them  to  order,  and  the 
meeting  ended  with  a  hymn  beginning, — 

"  There 's  a  work  for  me,  and  a  wur-r-k  for  you, 
Something  for  each  of  us  now  to  do," 

which  made  Christine  feel  insignificant. 

"  Leonora,"  she  said,  as  the  girls  drove  out  the  last 
of  their  little  flock  and  locked  the  door,  "  I  '11  see 
about  the  plastering  and  I  '11  see  about  the  pictures 
too.  No,  don't  thank  me ;  I  don't  deserve  it." 

"  Christine,"  called  Clare  from  the  foot  of  the  steps, 
"won't  you  walk  down  with  me?"  And  presently 
they  started  off  together,  while  Ardis  and  Leonora 
brought  up  the  rear  with  a  troop  of  small  boys,  who 
were  quite  open-mouthed  in  their  admiration  of  the 
strange  lady. 

It  was  a  beautiful  moonlight  night,  and  before 
long  the  two  girls  had  left  their  companions  far 
behind. 

"  Clare,"  began  Christine,  drearily,  "  do  you  think 
12  I77 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

that  we  ought  to  be  condemned  for  falling  over  ob- 
stacles that  are  placed  in  our  path,  —  things  that  we 
couldn't  help  at  all?" 

"  I  don't  think  that  we  shall  be  judged  for  falling 
over  the  obstacles,  but  for  the  way  in  which  we  take 
the  bumps.  Don't  you  remember,  Confucius  says 
'  Our  greatest  glory  is  not  in  never  falling,  but  in  ris- 
ing every  time  we  fall.'  " 

"  Such  a  quotation  is  like  a  hot-water  bag  to  the 
emotions,"  said  Christine,  solemnly. 

"  No ;  but,  seriously  speaking,  don't  you  think  that 
our  badness  results  from  the  privilege  of  choice? 
And  is  n't  this  privilege,  after  all,  our  greatest  glory? 
Does  n't  the  very  fact  that  God  gave  us  the  option  of 
choosing  between  right  and  wrong  show  that  He  had 
some  faith  in  us?  " 

"  But  He  must  have  been  able  to  look  ahead  and 
see  that  we  would  not  be  worthy  of  that. faith." 

"  Oh  dear,  I  suppose  so  !  But,  Christine,  He  must 
have  known,  when  He  gave  us  reason,  that  we  would 
make  mistakes.  He  must  have  known  that  we  would 
experiment  in  every  direction,  with  our  own  little  out- 
fits of  creative  power.  Nature  is  the  only  thing  that 
never  makes  a  mistake.  And  yet  I  would  rather 
have  my  share  of  incomplete  reason,  which  con- 
tinually leads  me  astray,  than  be  part  of  a  great 
Instinct  that  works  according  to  fixed  laws." 

"  Then  the  answer  to  the  '  Great  Question  Why ' 
is,  '  Make  the  most  of  the  best  that  is  in  us,' "  said 
Christine.  "  We  don't  think  about  that  often  enough, 
Clare,  not  half  often  enough.  We  want  other  peo- 
ple's mosts,  you  know,  —  the  kind  that  gets  recogni- 
tion and  praise.  But  we  ought  not  to  go  back  on 

178 


A   COLLEGE   SUNDAY 

our  own,  I  suppose.  After  all,  it  is  our  own.  It 
would  be  lonely  if  we  did  n't  care." 

"  Very,  very  lonely,"  said  Clare.  "  It  is  like  a 
child,  you  see." 

"And  to  despise  what  is  best  in  ourselves  is  almost 
like  despising  God.  Clare,"  she  added  suddenly,  "  I 
like  to  hear  you  talk  about  this  Friend  of  yours !  " 

The  next  morning,  while  Christine  was  arranging 
her  room,  Clare  came  in  with  a  note  from  Ardis, 
which  she  said  demanded  an  immediate  answer. 
Christine  tore  it  open  and  read :  — 

The  Phi  Delta  Kappa  Society  of  Harland  College  ex- 
tends a  cordial  invitation  to  Miss  Arnold  to  become  one  of 
its  members.  An  answer  is  desired. 

ARDIS  HATHAWAY,  Sec'y. 

And  this  was  the  end  of  that  college  Sunday. 


179 


CHAPTER  XIII 

NUMBER   2   HADLEY 

RUTH  and  Christine  were  studying  their  Physics 
together  in  Number  2  Hadley,  and  Christine  was 
saying,  — 

"  I  don't  see  how  the  centre  of  gravity  can  fall 
outside  of  the  object  to  which  it  belongs,  even  if 
the  object  does  happen  to  be  in  unstable  equilibrium. 
How  can  any  object  tell  which  its  own  centre  of 
gravity  is,  when  there  are  a  lot  of  them  lying  around? 
I  should  n't  think  it  would  be  safe  to  let  a  thing  like 
that  get  loose,  anyhow." 

"Christine,  if  you  are  not  good,  I  won't  help  you 
any  more !  " 

"  Well,  let 's  take  Logic  for  a  while,  then.  I  wish 
to  go  forth  and  slay  an  illicit  major." 

"Very  well,"  said  Ruth,  opening  her  Jevons, 
"  what  are  you  going  to  give  in  class  to-morrow  as 
an  example  of  undistributed  middle?" 

"  A  sofa-pillow.  Oh,  Ruth,  how  did  you  know 
beforehand  that  I  was  in  Phi  Delta  Kappa,  when  we 
are  all  pledged  not  to  tell?  " 

"  I  knew  it  from  Elsie's  face  when  she  came  home 
that  night.  She  tried  to  appear  gloomy  and  de- 
pressed, but  I  arose  in  my  wrath  and  said,  '  Eliza- 
beth Dane,  do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  can  walk 

180 


NUMBER   2   HADLEY 

into  my  room  looking  like  that,  and  tell  me  that  my 
room-mate  is  not  in  Phi  Delta  Kappa?'  She  gave 
me  one  big  hug,  but  did  n't  say  a  word,  and  then  we 
both  stood  on  our  heads  for  ten  minutes  and  went  to 
bed.  We  did  n't  either  of  us  come  near  you  Sunday, 
because  we  did  n't  dare." 

"  Ruth,  who  do  you  suppose  stopped  to  congratu- 
late me  to-day  when  I  was  coming  out  of  Lincoln 
Hall  ?  Professor  Burton  !  Was  n't  that  nice  in  him  ? 
And  I  have  never  been  in  any  of  his  classes,  either." 

The  young  Zoology  professor  was  one  of  whom 
the  college  was  particularly  proud,  because  he  wrote 
articles  for  the  "  Weekly  Lamellibranch,"  and  had 
discovered  enough  new  legs,  arms,  whiskers,  and 
other  decorations,  on  various  insects,  to  have  made 
an  entirely  new  genus  if  the  fragments  could  have 
been  properly  combined.  He  knew  people  at  the 
Smithsonian,  and  was  respectfully  spoken  of  by  all 
the  scientific  magazines;  but  the  best  part  of  him 
was  that  he  was  only  twenty-six  years  old,  and  re- 
membered everything  funny  that  he  had  ever  seen 
or  heard.  He  and  his  father  lived  alone  in  a  little 
three-gabled  house,  and  always  went  to  vespers  and 
Glee  Club  concerts  together.  They  were  very  good 
friends  indeed,  and  might  be  seen  walking  down  Elm 
Street,  arm  in  arm,  on  any  fine  afternoon.  Some- 
times they  gave  chafing-dish  parties,  and  it  was  said 
that  no  one  could  cook  oysters  better  than  old  Dr. 
Burton.  He  ranked  next  to  Professor  Thome's 
children  in  the  affection  of  the  college,  and  was 
asked  to  everything  that  went  on.  The  old  man 
always  had  a  seat  in  the  front  row  at  Dramatics,  and 
stamped  and  applauded  vigorously.  He  was  very 

181 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

fond  of  Ardis  Hathaway,  because  she  was  pretty, 
and  one  night  when  she  took  part  in  a  Marston  House 
play,  he  brought  her  a  little  bunch  of  violets. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Ruth,  "  I  believe  that  the 
Faculty  are  more  interested  in  us  than  we  have  any 
idea  of!  They  have  been  so  good  to  me,  every 
one  of  them,  since  —  all  this  came."  There  was  a 
knock  at  the  door,  and  one  of  the  maids  put  her 
head  into  the  room. 

"  Please,  Miss  Arnold,  Datisi  's  having  a  fit  in  the 
coal-scuttle !  " 

Christine  rushed  downstairs,  leaving  Ruth  to  think 
that  she  had  become  suddenly  daft;  but  presently 
she  returned,  carrying  an  infuriated  ball  of  fur,  which 
spit  violently  when  released,  and  shot  under  the  bed. 

"  It 's  my  new  room-mate,"  said  Christine,  quietly, 
"  and  it  was  n't  having  a  fit  at  all.  It  was  only 
playing  with  the  coal." 

Ruth  looked  at  her  in  absolute  consternation. 

"  I  was  lonely ;  that  is  all,"  she  explained.  "  I 
don't  think  it  agrees  with  me  —  not  having  any  one 
to  talk  to." 

"  Oh,  Christine,  you  have  n't  been  as  lonely  as 
that !  Don't  tell  me  that  you  have  been  so  lonely  as 
all  that ;  "  and  Ruth  looked  ready  to  cry,  but  a  faint 
growl  from  under  the  bed  made  her  laugh  instead ; 
and  then  came  the  rattle,  rattle  of  a  spool  against 
the  washstand. 

"  My  room-mate  is  sportive,  you  perceive,"  said 
Christine,  with  a  wave  of  the  hand.  "  I  knew  it  to 
be  sportive,  from  the  fact  that  when  we  first  met,  it 
was  fanning  itself  with  a  bone." 

"  Christine,  where  did  you  find  that  animal?" 
182 


NUMBER   2    HADLEY 

"  Up  on  Hospital  Hill.  I  was  taking  one  of  my 
solitary  strolls,  when  I  perceived  the  leg  of  Datisi's 
mother  disappearing  under  a  barn.  I  gave  instant 
chase,  and,  behold,  as  I  drew  near,  two  round  and 
cobwebby  balls  dashed  away  in  the  maternal  direc- 
tion. But  one  of  these  happened  to  fall  into  a 
saucer  of  milk  on  the  way,  and  while  it  tarried  to 
sneeze,  I  grasped  it  firmly  by  the  tail.  Incidentally 
this  led  to  my  concealing  the  feline  in  my  muff  and 
bringing  him  home." 

"  But  will  Mrs.  Sawyer  let  you  keep  him?  " 

"  Certainly.  She  said  that  the  mice  had  been 
having  midnight  spreads  in  the  pantry,  and  the  very 
presence  of  Datisi  would  put  their  lights  out  at  ten 
o'clock.  Is  n't  Datisi  a  nice  name  ?  It 's  short  for 
Barbara,  Celarent,  Darii,  Ferio  qne  prioris  ;  other- 
wise Bramantip  ;  page  145,  Jevons' Logic.  I  thought 
that  it  would  be  easier  to  remember  the  formula,  if 
it  happened  to  be  my  room-mate's  name." 

"  Bramantip  seems  to  be  of  a  warlike  disposition," 
said  Ruth,  laughing,  as  the  growls  increased  in  a 
rapid  crescendo,  and  the  spool  rolled  out  from  under 
the  bed. 

"  Oh,  he  growls  when  he  's  pleased.  I  think  that 
must  be  it,  because,  the  other  day  when  I  washed  him 
with  tar  soap,  he  purred." 

There  came  another  knock,  and  Christine  received 
a  call  from  the  editor  of  Phi  Delta  Kappa,  who 
wanted  a  paper  for  the  next  meeting.  She  said  that 
"  anything  would  do,"  but  Christine  understood  per- 
fectly well  that  it  would  n't.  She  also  thought  that  it 
would  be  bold  and  unseemly  to  have  a  paper  read  at 
her  first  meeting,  and  said  so ;  but  the  editor  was 

183 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

persistent  and  finally  departed  in  triumph,  with  a  little 
sketch  which  Miss  Carlisle  had  marked  "  Excellent." 

"  I  think  I  '11  go  home,"  said  Ruth,  gathering  up 
her  books.  "  The  oppressive  quiet  of  this  room  is 
'  getting  monotonous,'  as  the  Western  man  said  when 
the  mule  fell  through  the  roof  for  the  ninth  time." 

On  the  night  of  Christine's  first  society  meeting, 
Ardis  called  for  her,  and  they  went  over  to  College 
Hall  together.  Miss  Carlisle  heard  them  come  down- 
stairs, and  went  out  to  give  each  a  rose  from  the  box 
that  had  been  sent  her  that  afternoon.  When  they 
entered  the  reading  room,  Christine  thought  she 
had  never  before  found  herself  in  such  a  cordial 
community.  Every  one  crowded  up  to  shake  hands 
with  her,  and  say  how  glad  they  all  were  to  have  her 
in  Phi  Delta  Kappa,  and  Christine  thought :  "  Per- 
haps those  girls  who  black-balled  me  last  year  were 
all  Seniors,  who  have  gone  away."  The  room  had 
been  made  comfortable  with  sofa-pillows;  and  the 
warm  flicker  of  an  open  wood-fire  danced  over  the 
hair  and  bare  shoulders  of  Miss  Genevieve  Royce,  as 
she  took  her  place  in  the  President's  chair.  A  great 
cluster  of  pink  roses  stood  on  the  table  beside  her, 
and  threw  a  shimmering  picture  of  themselves  across 
the  polished  wood. 

The  roll  was.  called,  and  then  came  the  mysterious 
"  Business  Meeting,"  which  dealt  extensively  in  black 
and  white  beans.  Christine  deposited  a  fat  white 
bean  in  every  box,  and  felt  distinctly  aggrieved  when 
two  of  the  girls  failed  to  be  admitted.  But  the  suc- 
cessful candidate  was  Grace  Reade,  and  she  grew 
warm  at  the  thought  of  this  delightful  secret,  which 
nothing  could  induce  her  to  tell. 

184 


NUMBER  2   HADLEY 

Then  came  the  reading  of  the  Phi  Delta  Kappa 
paper,  and  Christine's  article  received  a  little  round 
of  applause  all  to  itself,  although,  as  one  girl  said, 
"  the  suitable  time  for  applauding,  is  when  the  old 
paper  is  done."  Clare  stole  up  to  Christine  several 
times  during  the  evening  and  gave  her  a  few  soft 
little  pats,  as  if  to  make  sure  that  she  was  there  ;  then 
slipped  away,  thinking  that  Christine  and  Ardis  would 
rather  be  by  themselves. 

"  Do  you  know,  Ardis,"  said  Christine,  after  one  of 
these  timid  excursions,  "  I  think  that  Clare  has  a  better 
mind  than  we  give  her  credit  for." 

"  Than  you  give  her  credit  for,  you  mean.  I  have 
always  known  what  she  was.  But  she  gets  no  credit 
for  her  philosophy  because  she  is  a  musician.  You 
get  no  credit  for  your  really  excellent  sketches  and 
your  dramatic  ability,  because  you  can  write.  I  get 
no  credit  for  anything  whatever,  simply  because  I  Ve 
got  a  bridge  to  my  nose  and  a  decent  complexion. 
It 's  the  same  way  with  Clare's  music.  People  here 
think  that  a  girl  has  no  right  to  more  than  one  gift, 
and  if  she  happens  to  have  that,  why,  exit  all  her 
other  qualities." 

"  But,  Ardis,  you  must  confess  that  she  does  n't 
often  show  those  other  qualities." 

"  That  is  one  of  her  attractions  to  me.  She  never 
goes  racing  through  College  Hall  calling  out,  '  Here, 
I  Ve  got  an  opinion.  Now  listen  and  see  if  it  is  n't  a 
good  one ! '  In  fact,  she  is  like  a  little  flower-garden, 
and  does  not  allow  her  blooms  to  stray  outside  the 
fence." 

"No,  I  don't  think  that  she  is  like  a  cultivated 
garden.  She  reminds  me  more  of  a  patch  of  wood- 

185 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

land  where  wild  flowers  happen  to  grow,  and  some- 
times you  can  find  it,  and  sometimes  you  can't." 

This  conversation  was  carried  on  between  a  series 
of  papers  on  "  Poets  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,"  and 
then  came  the  social  part  of  the  meeting,  when  every- 
body talked,  or  gathered  around  the  fire  to  sing 
college  songs.  Christine  could  scarcely  realize  that 
she  was  a  part  of  it  all,  and  went  home  that  night 
with  vague  dreams  of  literary  success,  and  of  an  im- 
portant place  on  the  editorial  staff. 

The  new  editors  would  go  on  duty  in  April,  and 
bring  out  the  last  two  numbers  of  the  "  Prism,"  so 
that  the  Seniors  might  be  free  for  their  Commence- 
ment work ;  and  Christine  could  not  help  wondering 
what  members  of  her  class  would  be  chosen  to  fill 
that  enviable  position.  She  had  always  loved  writing 
better  than  anything  else,  and  her  literary  career  at 
college  had  contained  many  amusing  experiences. 
At  one  time  she  had  been  known  among  her  friends 
as  "  The  Arch- Heretic,"  because  of  an  entirely  sincere 
essay  that  she  had  written  on  "  The  Ludicrous."  In 
it  she  had  asserted  that  pleasure  carried  beyond  a  cer- 
tain point  becomes  pain,  and  that  we  suffer  more  from 
too  funny  a  joke  than  from  a  joke  that  is  not  funny 
at  all.  Miss  Carlisle  had  scribbled  in  pencil  at  the 
bottom  of  the  last  page,  "  Why  was  this  paper  written? 
Most  of  your  statements  are  arch-heretical." 

Another  early  effort  dealt  with  the  story  of  a  meta- 
phor with  a  spiral  tail.  It  was  a  convoluted  animal, 
which  talked,  crowed,  and  purred  by  turns ;  and  Chris- 
tine explained  that  being  only  an  "  implied  resem- 
blance," the  metaphor  could  not  be  expected  to 
manifest  all  the  characteristics  of  any  one  animal. 

1 86 


NUMBER   2   HADLEY 

When  this  paper  was  returned,  its  margins  bristled 
with  "  Sic?"  which  was  Miss  Carlisle's  way  of  saying, 
"Do  you  really  mean  it?"  and  her  criticism  read: 
"You  can  do  better  than  this.  Try  more  serious 
work."  But  several  papers,  and  particularly  the  last 
one,  had  received  such  warm  praise  that  Christine 
thought,  "  Perchance  the  arch-heresy  has  fallen 
from  me  !  "  Her  articles  in  the  "  Prism  "  were  often 
"  noticed  "  by  other  college  magazines,  and  the  loyal 
admiration  of  the  Harland  students  stimulated  her 
continually  to  further  effort.  It  is  an  inspiring  place, 
after  all,  this  college  world,  and  one  in  which  we  must 
be  strange  creatures  if  we  fail  to  do  our  best. 

But  Christine's  love  of  writing  had  begun  with  her 
very  early  childhood,  and  she  had  always  felt  that 
something  must  have  been  asked  of  her  here, 
although  the  self-distrust  that  was  helping  her  to 
grow  brought  its  accompanying  discouragements 
every  day.  And  yet  there  were  times  when  she  had 
started  up  in  the  night,  crying,  "  What  do  you  want  of 
me  ?  "  For  it  seemed  as  if  something  must  have  been 
wanted,  else  why  was  she  made  like  this? 

But  when  morning  came,  it  convinced  her  once 
more  that  she  was  only  very  sleepy  and  common- 
place ;  and  she  also  realized  that  the  world  was  con- 
tinually raising  its  standard.  Everybody  wrote  better ; 
but  fewer  people  wrote  well. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  what  Miss  Carlisle  really  thinks  of 
me,"  she  thought.  "  She  has  so  seldom  said  anything 
nice  about  my  work  and  yet  she  is  my  friend.  I  'm 
almost  sure  that  she  is  my  friend !  " 

But  Christine  did  not  know  that  three  years  ago, 
when  she  came  to  college,  she  had  been  registered  in 

187 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

a  certain  keen  brain  as  "  a  girl  whose  greatness  is 
hedged  in  by  lack  of  discipline."  Of  Ardis,  Miss 
Carlisle  had  thought,  "  A  face  that  has  possibilities 
of  right,  but  probabilities  of  wrong." 

She  had  watched  the  growing  friendship  between 
these  two  girls  with  a  vague  disapproval,  which  she 
herself  could  not  explain.  It  seemed  unreasonable  to 
condemn  Ardis  as  unreliable,  simply  because  she 
never  showed  her  feelings ;  and  yet  she  often  wished 
that  Christine  would  see  less  of  her.  But  this  wish 
was  not  realized ;  for  Christine  had  recently  been 
elected  to  the  Council  —  a  committee  chosen  from 
the  four  classes  to  represent  the  undergraduates  at 
Faculty  meetings — and  worked  with  Ardis  continu- 
ally to  further  the  interests,  and  regulate  the  social 
events  of  the  "  student-body." 

The  sudden  resignation  of  one  of  the  three  Junior 
members  had  resulted  in  Christine's  election,  and 
although  nothing  was  said,  the  Juniors  suspected  that 
this  resignation  had  been  caused  by  some  trouble  with 
their  President. 

"  Lucile  Murray  rooms  next  door  to  me,  in  Chap- 
ter 7,"  said  Kathleen  Carey,  "  and  the  other  day  she 
threw  a  book  out  of  the  window.  She  said  it  was  an 
accident,  but  I  rather  surmised  that  she  hoped  Ardis 
might  be  passing  by." 

When  the  Councillor  herself  was  interviewed  on 
the  subject,  she  remained  quite  non-committal,  and 
refused  to  give  any  explanation  of  what  had  occurred. 

"  Did  they  think  for  a  minute,"  she  thought  after- 
wards, with  scornful  eyes,  "  that  I  was  going  to  say 
anything  against  the  President  of  Ninety-five  ?  " 

The  Junior  Councillors  were  now  absorbed  in  a 
188 


NUMBER   2   HADLEY 

plan  to  abolish  "  the  old  Twenty-second,"  and  have 
in  its  place  a  genuine  Prom,  which  the  upper-class 
girls  could  enjoy.  The  Prom  would  not  come  until 
the  spring,  so  Washington's  Birthday  must  be  cele- 
brated by  a  festive  rally  in  the  Gym,  with  marching 
and  loud  sounds.  Everybody  rejoiced  when  the  argu- 
ments brought  forward  by  the  Juniors  were  finally 
accepted ;  and  Christine's  mother,  who  faithfully 
perused  the  Harland  notices  in  the  New  York 
"  Tribune,"  wrote  to  say  that  she  was  coming  up  on 
the  Twenty-second  to  offer  her  congratulations  in 
person  ;  while  Stephen,  who  had  heard  of  the  arrange- 
ment, wrote  that  he  would  be  there  too. 

As  this  was  Mrs.  Arnold's  first  visit  to  the  college, 
her  daughter's  friends  were  very  anxious  to  see  what 
she  would  be  like,  and  Christine  invited  a  number  of 
them  to  meet  her  mother,  at  an  informal  spread  in 
the  afternoon ;  but  when  the  hour  and  the  company 
arrived,  the  guest  of  honor  had  not  yet  appeared. 

"  I  've  sent  three  telegrams,  and  met  three  trains," 
explained  the  mortified  hostess,  "  but  she  has  n't 
turned  up,  so  perhaps  we  'd  better  eat  the  things." 

Datisi  had  been  dressed  for  company  in  a  yellow 
cravat,  which  went  around  his  neck  and  lasted  until  it 
reached  his  tail.  He  tried  to  back  out  of  it  several 
times,  and  then  pulled  it  around  in  front  of  him  so 
that  he  fell  over  it  whenever  he  tried  to  walk.  This 
irritated  him  extremely,  and  when  Christine  took  her 
guests  into  Freda  Hastings'  room  to  lay  off  their 
wraps,  Datisi  took  the  lobster  and  went  downstairs. 
When  the  girls  assembled  for  the  feast,  their  hostess 
gazed  at  the  table  in  horror,  then  began  to  look  under 
all  the  different  pieces  of  furniture  in  the  room. 

189 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"Christine,  what  is  the  matter?"  they  asked,  as 
after  an  apparently  futile  search  she  sat  down  deject- 
edly on  the  floor. 

"  I  Ve  lost  my  mother,  and  I  Ve  lost  my  lobster, 
and  my  room-mate  's  gone." 

"  Never  mind,  we  're  here,"  said  Freda,  consolingly, 
"  and  the  lunch  is  getting  cold." 

So  they  all  fell  to  work  upon  the  neglected  viands ; 
and  just  as  they  were  consuming  the  last  of  them, 
Mrs.  Arnold  appeared  in  the  door  of  Number  2  Had- 
ley,  with  a  great  bunch  of  roses  in  each  hand,  and  a 
box  of  violets  crushed  comfortably  under  one  arm. 

"  I  thought  that  you  might  want  to  decorate  in 
honor  of  my  arrival,"  she  said,  "  so  I  Ve  provided 
the  ways  and  means." 

"  Oh,  mamma,"  said  Christine,  in  dismay,  "  we  were 
afraid  that  you  were  not  coming.  I  Ve  been  giving 
you  a  spread  !  " 

So  this  was  Christine's  mother,  —  this  dainty  little 
person  in  silks  and  furs,  with  her  arms  full  of  flowers, 
and  mischief  in  her  eyes.  She  did  not  seem  to  be  at 
all  surprised  to  find  the  room  full  of  girls,  but  beamed 
upon  them  all,  and  tossed  her  roses  upon  the  bed. 

"  So  you  Ve  been  giving  me  a  spread,  have  you, 
when  I  wasn't  here?"  she  asked,  as  Christine  helped 
her  out  of  the  fur-trimmed  jacket.  "  Oh,  Christie, 
Christie,  how  characteristic ! "  and  sitting  down 
among  the  roses,  she  laughed  until  she  could  scarcely 
see.  The  girls  looked  at  each  other  in  bewilderment, 
which  gradually  changed  to  consternation. 

"  There  's  nothing  left  but  a  plate  of  sandwiches," 
said  one. 

"  Eaten  it  all  up,  have  you  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Arnold, 
190 


NUMBER   2   HADLEY 

with  a  comical  look.  "  Well,  Christie,  I  like  that !  I 
think  that  Stephen  and  I  will  go  down  town  to-night 
and  give  you  a  spread  !  —  only  you  need  n't  trouble 
to  come  to  it." 

"  But,  mamma,  how  did  you  happen  to  be  so  late? 
We  had  given  you  up  long  ago." 

"  It  was  entirely  the  fault  of  the  Russian  minister. 
He  came  over  on  the  train  with  us  last  night,  and 
what  did  papa  do  but  invite  him  to  lunch  with  us 
to-day  at  the  Fifth  Avenue?  I  had  to  stay  and  be 
polite  to  him,  or  we  would  all  have  been  involved  in 
a  European  war.  So  that 's  why  I  was  late.  And 
now,  please,  introduce  me  to  your  friends,  or  they 
won't  have  the  slightest  idea  who  I  am  !  " 

But  it  is  seldom  necessary  to  introduce  one's  friends 
to  a  college  mother,  because  she  knows  so  much  about 
them  already. 

"So  this  is  Miss  Carey?  I've  heard  of  how  well 
she  did  Mr.  Boffin  in  the  Storey  House  Dramatics. 
And  Miss  Reade,  too,  —  known  also  as  'Kathleen's 
Accomplice.'  Ah,  you  good  child,  you  have  brought 
me  a  sandwich !  And  this  is  little  Clare  ?  Why, 
what  a  darling  you  are  !  "  and  much  to  Clare's  aston- 
ishment, Mrs.  Arnold  pulled  her  down  very  gently 
and  kissed  her.  "  But  where  is  my  dear  Ruth  ?  "  she 
asked,  when  she  had  met  all  the  girls ;  "  I  was  almost 
sure  that  she  would  be  here  to  meet  me." 

"  She 's  working,"  explained  Christine ;  and  Mrs. 
Arnold  said,  "  Oh,  the  brave  little  soul !  " 

A  shadow  had  come  over  her  face,  and  Christine 
hastened  to  add :  "  Ardis  could  n't  come,  either.  She 
has  a  man  on  her  hands.  But  she  's  coming  up  to 
sing  to  you  after  supper  to-night." 

191 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  And  bring  her  accompanist,"  added  Clare,  shyly. 

"Clare's  Assistant  Leader  of  the  Glee  Club  now," 
explained  Christine,  proudly,  "  and  plays  all  their 
accompaniments." 

"  Oh,  how  I  shall  enjoy  it !  "  said  Mrs.  Arnold, 
delightedly.  "And  Stephen  will  like  it  too." 

"  But  Stephen  has  n't  come,  mamma." 

"  He 's  down  at  the  hotel  now,  seeing  about 
rooms.  Christie,  why  don't  you  hang  your  pictures 
straight?" 

"  She  is  like  Chris,  after  all,"  whispered  Faith 
Bentley  to  Kathleen. 

"  I  should  have  said  —  your  picture,"  continued  Mrs. 
Arnold,  surveying  the  vacant  walls.  "  What  has  she 
done  with  the  rest  of  them?  "  she  asked,  —  "  smashed 
them  or  packed  them  away  under  the  bed  ?  " 

"  She  's  given  them,  or  at  least  lent  them  all  to 
Ruth,"  explained  Freda  Hastings.  "  I  think  she 
enjoys  them  more,  having  them  down  there." 

Mrs.  Arnold  looked  delighted,  and  began,  "  The 
dear  —  well,  Ruth  deserves  to  have  them  more  than 
Christine,  anyhow,  for  she  is  a  better  girl." 

"  Had  you  lost  anything?  "  inquired  an  unexpected 
voice  in  the  doorway.  "  I  found  them  both  in  my 
room  when  I  came  home." 

Miss  Carlisle  stood  there,  holding  Datisi  in  one 
hand,  the  lobster  in  the  other,  and  Datisi  was  spar- 
ring at  the  lobster  with  wicked  paws.  Christine's 
apologies  were  rendered  somewhat  futile  by  the 
mirth  of  the  company;  but  Miss  Carlisle  was,  as 
usual,  quite  equal  to  the  occasion.  "  The  kitten  of- 
fered me  a  lunch,  which  I  was  noble  enough  to  de- 
cline, because  I  knew  that  it  was  not  his  to  give,"  she 

192 


NUMBER   2   HADLEY 

said ;  "  but  people  who  return  stolen  property  often 
receive  a  reward,  and  those  sandwiches  look  very 
good." 

"  Miss  Carlisle,  this  is  my  mother,"  said  Christine, 
laughing ;  and  Miss  Carlisle  colored  a  little,  as  if  she 
had  been  one  of  the  girls. 

"  It  is  useless  for  me  to  try  and  make  a  dignified 
impression  now,"  she  said  with  dancing  eyes.  "  But 
I  '11  stay  long  enough  to  explain  to  Mrs.  Arnold  that 
she  missed  a  good  deal  in  not  coming  to  our  rally 
this  morning.  We  had  a  debate  on  the  subject  of 
whether  the  higher  education  of  man  unfits  him  for 
domestic  life." 

"And  how  did  it  come  out?"  asked  Mrs.  Arnold. 

"  Oh,  we  finally  decided  that  a  man  can  take  better 
care  of  young  children  if  he  has  studied  Calculus, 
and  can  make  more  artistic  puddings  if  he  knows  his 
Schopenhauer  and  Kant.  No,  Christine,  I  can't  stay 
one  other  minute  now.  But  Mrs.  Arnold  is  coming 
to  supper  with  us  to-night,  are  n't  you,  Mrs.  Ar- 
nold ?  We  should  all  like  to  have  you." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Carlisle,  don't  go  yet !  "  pleaded  the 
girls ;  but  she  answered  with  a  funny  smile,  "  One 
hundred  and  fifty-three  Bain  papers  before  to-morrow 
morning !  "  and  departed  merrily  with  the  nearest 
sandwich. 

The  attention  of  the  company  was  now  directed  to 
Datisi,  who,  having  been  formally  introduced,  spit  at 
them  all  impartially  and  retired  under  the  bed.  Mil- 
dred Wyman,  who  liked  cordiality  in  cats,  confided 
to  Grace  that  she  considered  his  fur  an  unbecoming 
color,  and  Grace  answered  that  she  had  no  doubt  it 
was  put  on  only  to  conceal  where  his  skin  was  pieced. 
13  193 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"And  his  eyes  look  like  the  inside  of  a  blue  grape," 
she  added  disrespectfully. 

"  Oh,  Christine,"  said  Faith,  "  there  's  your  brother 
now,  coming  out  of  the  old  Gym.  He 's  evidently 
been  searching  for  the  Hadley." 

Christine  ran  downstairs  to  meet  him,  and  Mrs. 
Arnold,  who  was  never  surprised  at  anything  that 
her  daughter  did,  presided  gracefully  at  the  leave- 
taking  of  the  guests. 

Ardis  and  Clare  appeared  promptly  at  the  Hadley 
that  evening  with  a  big  roll  of  music,  and  Ardis,  who 
happened  to  be  in  one  of  her  irresistible  moods, 
yielded  with  quiet  readiness  to  Mrs.  Arnold's  con- 
tinual demands  for  "  more."  Miss  Carlisle,  who  had 
already  listened  longer  than  her  work  allowed,  went 
back  resolutely  to  her  Bain  papers ;  and  then  Ardis 
sang  the  love  song  from  "  Samson  et  Delila,"  and 
the  worker  in  the  next  room  laid  her  cheek  down 
upon  the  papers,  and  forgot  them. 

"What  makes  her  so  willing  to  sing  to-night?" 
asked  Freda  Hastings,  curiously,  of  Clare.  "Is  it 
the  presence  of  Stephen?" 

"  No,  it 's  Mrs.  Arnold,"  replied  Clare,  with  a  little 
quiver  of  the  lips.  "  Ardis  has  no  mother,  you 
know." 

Christine  had  received  permission  to  spend  the 
night  with  Mrs.  Arnold ;  and  when  they  were  in  their 
room  at  the  hotel,  she  said,  "  Now,  mamma,  tell  me 
honestly,  what  do  you  think  of  Ardis?  " 

"  She  is  very  fascinating,  and  I  can  easily  see  why 
she  should  be  popular;  but  I  don't  think  that  her 
influence  upon  any  one  would  be  particularly  good." 

"  '  Any  one  '  means  me,  I  suppose.  Well,  I  hope 
194 


NUMBER   2   HADLEY 

you  don't  think  that  I  am  weak-minded  enough  to  be 
influenced  by  a  classmate  !  " 

Mrs.  Arnold  laughed.  "  My  blessed  infant,  every 
girl  in  this  college  is  a  little  planet,  with  an  atmos- 
phere of  her  own ;  and  if  you  walk  into  other  people's 
worlds,  you  must  expect  to  breathe  the  air  that  is 
there.  We  never  cease  to  be  influenced  by  other 
people,  —  by  the  people  that  are  near  us,  and  most 
of  all  by  the  people  that  we  love.  Why,  even  a 
pickle  is  influenced  by  the  close  proximity  of  a  red 
pepper." 

"  I  don't  see  the  force  of  your  comparison,"  said 
Christine,  with  dignity.  "  You  might  as  well  say  that 
a  man  who  steps  on  an  orange  peel  is  influenced  by 
the  sidewalk." 

.  "  He  is,  occasionally,"  said  Mrs.  Arnold,  laughing. 
"  Influence  often  comes  from  the  quarter  where  it  is 
least  expected,  and  gains  more  force  from  finding  us 
unprepared.  But  you  love  her  very  dearly,  don't 
you  ?  So,  of  course,  I  will  try  to  love  her  too." 

She  sat  looking  at  Christine  rather  wistfully,  then 
put  both  arms  on  the  table  before  her,  and  laid  her 
head  down  upon  them,  like  a  little  girl. 

"  Mamma,  you  might  be  a  Freshman  studying 
Horace  in  the  Reading  Room." 

"  I  am  studying  something  more  interesting,  my 
dear." 

She  lay  awake  until  late  that  night,  and  smiled  now 
and  then,  with  the  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  wrong,"  she  thought,  "  but  when 
she  is  with  her  friends,  there  is  certainly  a  different 
look  on  the  child's  face.  She  is  more  gentle  than 
she  used  to  be.  I  am  so  glad  that  she  has  learned  to 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

care   for  some   one, —  since  she  could  not  care    for 
me." 

Christine  did  not  know  her  mother  very  well,  and, 
following  the  tendency  of  a  critical  and  parent-judg- 
ing generation,  was  inclined  to  think  her  frivolous. 
She  imagined  that  her  mother  had  never  sought  her 
affection,  and  could  not  understand  why  the  wife  of 
a  rising  politician  should  have  had  so  little  time  to 
play  with  her  children.  It  did  not  occur  to  her  that 
the  separation  from  this  last  child  —  her  one  little 
girl  —  might  have  been  quite  as  hard  for  Mrs.  Arnold 
as  it  was  for  Christine,  and  that  she  had  comforted 
herself  then  by  thinking:  "  When  she  is  grown  up,  I 
will  tell  her  all  about  it,  —  the  darling,  —  and  being 
a  little  woman  she  will  understand." 

But  Christine  was  a  woman  now;  and  she  had 
not  understood.  The  next  morning  Ruth  came  down 
to  the  hotel  for  breakfast,  and  insisted  that  Mrs. 
Arnold  should  accompany  her  to  chapel  afterwards, 
as  Christine  was  nearly  always  late. 

"  Then  you  must  leave  her  in  the  reading  room, 
to  be  kept  until  called  for,"  said  Christine.  "  She 
has  to  go  to  Economics  with  me." 

"  I  'm  going  to  Economics  too,"  said  Stephen. 

"  No,  you  're  not,  and  it  is  n't  of  any  use  for  you 
to  cry,  because  I  'm  going  to  let  you  do  something 
that  you  '11  like  a  great  deal  better.  Whom  are  you 
going  to  take  to  chapel  this  morning,  Stephen? 
Shall  I  go  up  and  tell  her  you  're  coming?" 

"  I  have  n't  decided  yet,"  answered  Stephen,  with 
dignity.  "  But  I  '11  ask  her  all  right,  so  you  don't 
need  to  worry." 

Christine's  eyes  danced,  but  she  said  nothing ;  and 
196 


NUMBER   2   HADLEY 

presently  Ruth  and  Mrs.  Arnold  went  off  together  in 
high  spirits.  Stephen  set  forth  with  the  air  of  a  man 
who  has  a  mission  to  fulfil,  and  Christine  sailed  past 
him  in  an  electric  car,  five  minutes  after  he  had 
started.  She  reached  the  college,  and  vanished 
under  the  elms  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time, 
and  was  waiting  for  him  twenty  minutes  later,  when 
he  walked  into  the  Hadley  House  parlor  without  a 
girl. 

"Why,  Stephen,  what's  the  matter?"  she  asked 
sympathetically.  "  Would  n't  she  go  with  you?  " 

"  She 's  in  the  choir.  They  both  are.  Why 
did  n't  you  tell  me  ?  "  was  the  wrathful  answer ;  and 
Christine  laughed  until  Stephen  arose  and  said  that 
he  had  an  errand  down  town. 

"  Come  to  chapel,"  she  said,  holding  out  her  hand. 
"  She  's  been  in  the  choir  for  two  years,  and  so  has 
Ardis.  Oh,  Stephen,  there  is  nothing  half  so  useful, 
after  all,  as  information  scorned  !  " 

They  found  two  places  in  the  right  transept,  and 
when  the  services  were  over,  Christine  seized  Clare 
as  she  came  down  from  her  seat  on  the  platform. 

"You  haven't  anything  this  hour?"  she  asked 
anxiously ;  and  Clare  said,  "  No ;  but,  Christine  —  " 

"  Then  take  him  and  be  thankful.  He  's  a  bless- 
ing, a  sunbeam.  Oh,  Clare,  I  '11  do  as  much  for  you 
some  day  !  I  'm  late  at  Economics,  as  it  is.  Good- 
bye." And  she  quickly  disappeared,  leaving  Stephen 
to  be  jostled  by  departing  Sophomores,  until  Clare 
took  pity  on  him  and  bore  him  off  to  the  Art 
Gallery. 

Christine  and  her  mother  arrived  at  the  old  Gym 
just  in  time  to  hear  Professor  Wilmot  say  that  there 

197 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

would  be  no  recitation  to-day,  but  that  the  class 
would  attend  a  trial  in  the  Court  House,  "  to  serve  as 
a  practical  illustration  of  some  of  the  work  under 
consideration." 

"  I  did  n't  suppose  that  the  girls  studied  things  like 
this,"  said  Mrs.  Arnold,  laughing,  as  they  fell  into  the 
rear  of  the  long  procession,  headed  by  the  professor, 
with  a  student  on  each  side. 

"  Indeed  we  do  !  "  said  Christine,  opening  her  note- 
book. "  We  had  two  cases  to  work  up  for  to-day. 
Here  's  one,  for  instance.  If  a  peddler  sells  you  a  new 
kind  of  potato-peeler,  knowing  it  to  be  a  fraud,  and 
you  soon  discover  that  the  peeler  acts  as  if  it  had 
never  met  a  potato  before,  what  ought  you  to  do 
about  it?" 

"  I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Arnold,  seriously,  "  that  I 
should  have  turnips  for  dinner." 

"  No ;  but  suppose  that  your  husband  hated  turnips, 
and  that  they  made  him  sick !  It  would  n't  do  to 
back  down  that  way.  Neither  would  it  do,  mamma, 
for  you  to  lay  violent  hands  on  the  peddler,  so  that  he 
could  sue  you  for  assault.  No ;  the  only  feasible  plan 
would  be  to  detain  him,  by  sitting  on  his  head,  until 
the  town  authorities  could  be  summoned." 

"  I  '11  be  sure  and  remember,"  said  Mrs.  Arnold, 
demurely.  "  You  know  papa  says  that  there  's  noth- 
ing like  a  college  education  to  prepare  one  for  the 
little  daily  incidents  of  life.  Why,  here  we  are  at  the 
Court  House  now !  " 

The  case  on  trial  was  a  new  phase  of  the  old 
struggle,  Labor  versus  Capital. 

It  seemed  that  Labor  had  been  doing  odd  jobs  for 
Capital  about  his  place,  cutting  the  grass,  setting  out 

198 


NUMBER  2   HADLEY 

flowers,  etc.,  and  at  the  end  of  three  days  it  occurred 
to  him  that  he  would  like  to  be  paid.  Capital  put  off 
the  payment  at  the  time,  saying  that  he  would  pay 
when  the  work  was  finished ;  but  Labor  returned  on 
the  following  day  to  demand  payment  for  the  work 
already  done.  Capital  declined,  and  Labor,  becom- 
ing incensed,  threw  Capital  into  a  cucumber  frame, 
thereby  destroying  the  dignity  of  Capital,  and  the 
glass  of  which  the  frame  was  composed.  Capital 
brought  suit  against  Labor,  not  for  knocking  him 
down,  but  for  using  him  as  a  dangerous  weapon  with 
which  to  destroy  the  cucumber  frame.  Labor  defended 
himself  by  saying  that  he  had  pulled  Capital  out  of  the 
cucumber  frame  shortly  after  having  deposited  him 
there,  and  cited,  as  a  proof  of  this  statement,  the  fact 
that  Capital  was  in  the  Court  House  now. 

Capital  insisted  that  Labor  should  be  made  to  pay 
for  the  cucumbers,  in  addition  to  the  broken  glass; 
and  the  question  arose  in  court  as  to  whether  an 
ordinary  man  could  kill  a  cucumber  by  falling  on  it. 
It  was  suggested  that  a  cucumber  be  brought  into 
court,  and  that  some  one  should  fall  on  it,  to  settle 
the  point. 

But  some  one  else  recalled  that  the  cucumbers  had 
been  under  glass,  which  might  have  mitigated  the 
force  of  the  fall,  and  there  did  not  seem  to  be  any  one 
present  who  would  fall  on  a  cucumber,  through  glass, 
to  find  out.  The  point  under  discussion  was  finally 
settled  by  the  female  domestic  of  Capital,  who  alleged 
that  she  had  removed  the  cucumbers  from  the  broken 
portion  of  the  frame,  two  days  ago,  to  make  pickles, 
and  proved  her  statement  by  producing  one  of  the 
pickles  from  her  pocket. 

199 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

There  were  very  few  people  in  court  who  seemed 
to  be  at  all  amused  by  the  situation,  and  indeed  it 
might  turn  out  to  be  a  very  serious  matter  for  Labor. 

"  How  much  had  you  agreed  to  pay  the  prisoner 
for  work  on  your  premises?  "  asked  the  lawyer,  turn- 
ing to  Capital. 

"  A  dollar  'n'  a  quarter  a  day  is  what  I  gin'rally  give 
'em,"  answered  Capital,  "  but  I  don't  take  much  stock 
in  hired  help  that  comes  up  to  you  and  says,  '  See 
here,  mister  '  —  " 

"  That  will  do,"  interrupted  the  lawyer.  "  And  what 
is  your  valuation  of  the  glass  that  was  broken?  " 

"  Wall,"  answered  Capital,  slowly,  "  there  was  five 
panes  busted  clean  through,  and  I  set  kinder  hard  on 
another  — "  He  meditated  a  moment  and  then 
named  a  price  that  called  forth  a  murmur  of  expostu- 
lation from  the  prisoner's  friends. 

He  turned  round  and  hurled  defiance  in  their 
direction,  saying,  "  You  ain't  countin'  that  other  one 
that  I  set  hard  onto,"  —  when  he  was  ignominiously 
bidden  to  stand  down. 

Professor  Wilmot  did  not  wait  to  hear  the  summing 
up  of  the  evidence,  but  ushered  his  mirthful  class  out 
of  the  Court  House,  and  asked  them  their  opinion  of 
the  trial,  on  the  way  home.  He  told  them  to  come 
to  class  the  next  day  with  a  definite  idea  of  how  the 
court  should  have  decided  the  matter;  then  they 
could  look  up  the  verdict  and  compare. 

Ruth  met  her  friends  on  the  first  corner,  and  bore 
Mrs.  Arnold  off  to  inspect  the  attic  room  at  Mrs. 
Barstow's. 

"You  see  the  sun  comes  in  at  some  window  all  day 
long,"  she  said,  "and  all  the  girls  who  are  making 


NUMBER   2   HADLEY 

their  own  shirt-waists  like  to  come  here  and  sew, 
because  it 's  so  cheerful.  We  make  the  girls  that 
can't  sew,  read  aloud  until  they  're  hoarse,  and  then 
let  them  take  out  bastings  while  they  recuperate." 

Mrs.  Arnold  sat  down  in  a  low  rocking-chair,  and 
picked  up  a  shred  of  light  gingham  from  the  sunny 
floor. 

"  Ruth,  child,"  she  said,  "  I  wish  you  could  have 
sent  a  different  answer  to  the  little  letter  I  wrote  you. 
It  would  have  made  me  so  happy,  dear." 

Ruth  slipped  down  beside  the  chair,  and  put  both 
arms  around  Christine's  mother. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Arnold,  do  you  think  I  could  have  let 
you  send  me  through  college  as  you  wanted  to,  and 
do  everything  for  me  that  you  did  for  Christine?  It 
was  so  hard  for  me  to  have  to  hurt  you,  as  I  knew  I 
would  by  refusing ;  but  you  can  never  know  how  much 
it  meant  to  me  to  feel  that  you  wanted  to  do  it." 

Mrs.  Arnold  could  not  speak  for  a  minute,  and 
only  held  Ruth  very  closely  in  her  arms,  which  may 
have  been  what  Ruth  needed,  after  all. 

"Mrs.  Arnold,"  she  said,  "you  don't  think  it's 
wrong  for  me  to  be  away  from  home,  do  you,  now 
that  Cousin  Isabel  is  there  to  help  mamma  with  the 
housekeeping?  You  see  I'm  really  not  needed  just 
now,  and  if  I  don't  get  an  education,  how  can  I  help 
educate  the  boys  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  right  for  you  to  be  here,  Ruth.  In 
making  the  most  of  yourself,  you  are  really  doing 
what  is  best  for  your  family,  because  a  girl  with  an 
education  can  be  of  use  wherever  she  goes;  but 
without  an  education  she  is  sure  to  be  handicapped 
at  every  turn." 

201 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"I  want  to  get  a  position  to  teach,"  said  Ruth, 
eagerly,  "  and  then  perhaps  I  shall  be  able  to  send 
Dorothy  through  college  myself.  I  want  her  to  be  a 
happy  college  girl,  as  her  sister  was,  here  among  the 
arbutus  and  the  dear  hills  and  the  glorious  mountain 
air.  I  want  her  to  be  a  Harland  College  girl !  But 
oh,  Mrs.  Arnold,  is  n't  it  a  pity  that  she  can  never 
belong  to  the  class  of  Ninety-five !  " 

Mrs.  Arnold  laughed,  and  Ruth  talked  to  her  about 
college  and  Christine  and  home,  until  it  was  time  to 
start  for  "  Whately."  Christine  joined  them  outside 
Number  6,  and  was  soon  deep  with  the  other  Juniors 
in  plans  for  the  debate,  which  began  as  soon  as  Miss 
Carlisle  arrived.  Mrs.  Arnold  scarcely  recognized  her 
acquaintance  of  the  night  before,  in  this  self-possessed 
little  woman,  who  followed  the  discussion  from  side 
to  side  and  corner  to  corner,  gathering  up  whole 
bunches  of  omitted  refutations,  and  presenting  them 
compactly  to  each  new  participant  in  the  fray. 

Mrs.  Arnold  listened  in  amazement,  and  told  Chris- 
tine, after  class,  that  if  ever  a  mind  seemed  to  possess 
fingers  of  its  own,  that  kind  belonged  to  Miss  Carlisle. 

"  Madame  Rigault  has  fingers  of  that  description, 
too,"  said  Christine,  "  but,  unfortunately,  she  has 
finger-nails  as  well !  " 

Stephen  rejoined  them  with  a  triumphant  counte- 
nance, having  interviewed  all  the  pianos  in  the  Music 
Building,  shinned  up  a  rope  in  the  Gymnasium,  and 
sat  in  a  hammock  on  the  back  campus  and  broken 
it  down.  He  said  that  Clare  had  left  him  to  go  to 
recitation,  and  being  his  sister's  guest,  he  thought  it 
no  more  than  decent  that  he  should  entertain  him- 
self and  see  that  he  had  a  good  time.  He  and  Mrs. 

202 


NUMBER  2   HADLEY 

Arnold  went  away  that  afternoon,  most  enthusiastic 
over  college  and  everything  connected  with  it,  and 
Christine  hurled  statistics  after  them  as  the  train  left 
the  station. 

March  hurried  out  as  if  it  were  a  disagreeable 
piece  on  the  piano  that  the  player  wished  to  finish, 
and  April  came  in  with  two  weeks  of  vacation  and 
rest. 


203 


CHAPTER  XIV 
"PIPPA  PASSES" 

THE  first  Monday  in  Spring  term  was  a  soft  gray 
day,  full  of  rain,  —  the  kind  of  day  when  one  does 
not  wish  to  move,  —  and  Christine  had  settled  herself 
for  an  afternoon's  work  on  her  Carlyle  paper,  when 
Ardis  appeared. 

"  Come  out  to  walk,"  she  said,  shaking  the  drops 
from  her  hair.  "  If  you  stay  in-doors  and  try  to  be 
original,  you  '11  die." 

Christine  laid  aside  her  pile  of  untouched  essay 
paper  with  its  ominous  blue  lines,  beckoned  her 
rubbers  from  under  the  washstand,  and  put  on  her 
waterproof. 

"  Let's  go  up  and  see  the  river,"  said  Ardis,  as  they 
started  out  merrily  under  one  umbrella ;  "  it  is  always 
silver  in  a  storm." 

But  when  they  had  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  and 
stood  watching  the  gray  landscape  as  it  shifted  un- 
steadily in  the  wind  and  rain,  they  saw  that  the  river 
was  gray  like  the  rest. 

"  It  is  not  in  a  silver  mood,"  said  Ardis,  a  little 
sadly ;  "  I  'm  sorry  that  we  came." 

"  That  reminds  me  of  Clare,"  said  Christine.  "  She 's 
always  wondering  what  the  trees  and  flowers  and  sky 
are  thinking  about." 

204 


"PIPPA   PASSES" 

"  Clare 's  in  a  bad  temper  to-day,"  said  Ardis, 
laughing.  "  She  got  terribly  angry  with  Maude,  and 
when  she  is  angry  she  retires  to  her  own  room,  and 
rolls  off  the  bed." 

"  Rolls  off  the  bed  ! " 

"  Yes,  she  thinks  it  does  her  good.  Clare  's  such 
a  little  tempest,  you  know,  although  she  does  live  in 
a  calm  and  spiritual  outward  teapot.  This  morning 
she  rolled  off  the  bed  three  times,  and  when  I  de- 
manded an  explanation,  she  said,  '  If  I  had  not  rolled 
off  the  bed  three  times,  I  should  certainly  have  been 
very  disagreeable  to  her.'  Clare  detests  Maude." 

"  I  don't  wonder,"  observed  Christine. 

"Why?"  asked  Ardis,  quickly. 

"  Because  I  think  she  is  not  to  be  trusted." 

Ardis  looked  at  her  curiously  for  a  minute,  and 
then  said,  "  Let 's  go  home."  And  Christine  remem- 
bered afterwards  that  she  did  not  speak  again  until 
they  reached  the  house. 

She  worked  over  her  paper  until  late  that  night, 
hoping  to  finish  it  in  the  morning,  for  Miss  Carlisle 
had  gone  to  Waverly  to  give  a  lecture,  and  would  not 
return  in  time  for  "  Whately,"  on  the  following  day. 
Christine  went  to  chapel  with  a  light  heart,  for  the 
Carlyle  paper  was  beginning  to  seem  less  feeble;  it 
would  soon  reach  the  beef-tea  stage,  she  thought; 
and  straggling  ideas  that  had  been  eluding  her  for 
several  months,  now  stood  and  took  .off  their  hats 
respectfully  as  she  approached. 

She  was  a  little  late  at  chapel,  and  did  not  notice, 
until  she  came  out,  that  there  was  an  unusual  excite- 
ment among  the  girls. 

1  .  "It  is  n't  Monday,"  she  thought,  "  so  nobody  's  in 
.  205 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

a  society.  What 's  the  matter,  Fay  ?  Are  you  en- 
gaged ?  "  she  asked,  as  three  enthusiastic  classmates 
rushed  up  to  Miss  Bentley  and  seized  her  by  the 
arm. 

"  I  'm  engaged  to  be  an  editor  of  the  '  Prism/  my 
dear !  "  she  answered  with  shining  eyes.  "  Why, 
Chris,  didn't  you  know  about  it?  They  were  ap- 
pointed this  morning." 

"  Christine,  come  into  the  alcove  a  minute,"  said 
Rachel  Winter,  taking  her  by  the  hand ;  "  there,  sit 
down  and  wait  until  the  crowd  is  gone.  Why,  Chris- 
tine, did  n't  you  know?  Oh,  you  are  so  white  !  Chris- 
tine, is  it  possible  that  you  have  only  just  heard? 
There,  it's  abominable,  I  don't  care  if  I  ought  not 
to  say  so.  You  deserve  it  more  than  all  the  rest  of 
them  put  together,  except  Elizabeth  Dane,  —  she  's 
editor-in-chief.  And  everybody  is  simply  wild  with 
rage  and  disappointment.  I  don't  see  what  Miss 
Carlisle  was  thinking  of,  —  I  don't,  indeed." 

"Who  are  the  others?"  asked  Christine,  quietly. 

"  Oh,  Rachel,"  cried  a  Hillard  Freshman,  running 
into  the  alcove,  "  let  me  congratulate  you  !  I  think 
it 's  magnificent,  and  we  are  all  so  pleased.  Oh  !  "  she 
finished  blankly,  observing  Christine,  and  retired  in 
some  confusion. 

"  Are  you  —  are  you  one  too  ?  "  asked  Christine. 

"  Yes,  and  I  only  wish  I  could  give  it  to  you ! 
Why,  Christine,  I  can't  write,  but  then,  to  be  sure,  I  'm 
only  the  business  manager,  so  that  would  n't  mean 
much  to  you,  would  it?  But  it 's  an  honor,  of  course. 
Oh,  Christine,  I  think  it 's  abominable  !  " 

"  No,  it  is  n't,  Rachel ;  you  know  that  I  'm  glad  you 
have  it,  and  —  and  there  is  no  reason  why  I  should 

206 


"PIPPA   PASSES" 

have  it  more  than  any  one  else,  is  there  ?  Of  course 
I  should  —  "  she  stopped  and  swallowed  valiantly,  "  I 
should  have  liked  it." 

"  No  reason  why  you  should  n't  have  it  —  when 
you  are  the  best  writer  in  our  class  !  Christine,  how 
can  you  ?  " 

"  Tell  me  the  names  of  the  others." 

"Well,  Ardis—  " 

"  Ardis !  " 

"  To  them  that  hath  it  shall  be  given  —  yea,  every- 
thing, from  the  best  seat  at  Dramatics  to  the  presi- 
dency of  the  class.  Grace  Reade  and  Edith  Standish 
have  the  Literary  department  —  " 

"  I  'm  glad  about  Grace,"  broke  in  Christine. 

"  And  Faith  Bentley  the  Alumnae  department. 
Petunia  Blake  has  the  book  reviews  —  I  don't  remem- 
ber who  she  is,  do  you  ?  But  they  say  that  she  has  done 
a  lot  of  scrub  work  on  the  magazine,  been  a  kind  of 
literary  charwoman,  as  it  were." 

"  The  no-haired,  minnow-brained,  crab-gaited  !  " 
said  a  furious  figure,  confronting  them  suddenly; 
"  oh,  Christine,  my  old  honey  girl,  I  've  been  smiling 
out  of  one  eye  and  weeping  out  of  the  other,  all 
through  chapel,  until  one  side  of  my  face  resembles 
a  rut  in  the  Connecticut  River.  And  it 's  myself  that 
would  like  to  tie  those  Ninety-four  girls  up  in  their 
own  laundry-bags  and  hang  them  out  of  the  window. 
Only  say  the  word,  and  it  shall  be  done." 

Christine  began  to  laugh ;  but  laughter  of  this  kind 
is  not  steadying  to  the  nerves,  and  she  jumped  up, 
saying,  — 

"  Girls,  don't  sympathize  with  me,  and,  above  all, 
don't  let  other  people  sympathize  with  me.  It 's  hard 

207 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

enough  to  be  disappointed,  without  having  everybody 
in  the  college  know  about  it !  " 

She  fled  into  the  chapel,  and  went  down  the  back 
stairs,  hoping  to  escape  further  encounters  with  her 
friends;  but  when  she  opened  the  side  door,  there 
was  Grace  Reade,  studying  Chemistry  with  a  class- 
mate on  the  sunny  steps.  Both  looked  up  and  smiled 
as  she  passed,  but  it  seemed  to  her  unhappy  imagina- 
tion that  they  did  not  greet  her  with  as  much  respect 
as  usual.  Everything  was  an  insult  in  her  present 
state  of  mind,  and  she  suspected  every  one  of  cher- 
ishing a  secret  desire  to  sympathize  with  her.  She 
felt  that  she  would  like  to  annihilate  the  college 
for  knowing  of  her  humiliation.  Then  she  thought 
of  Miss  Carlisle,  and  clenched  her  hands  firmly  to 
keep  from  crying  until  she  had  reached  her  room. 

Some  one  ran  up  behind  her,  and  seized  her  by  the 
hand. 

"  Christine,  I  feel  like  a  usurping  old  villain  that 
needs  to  be  beheaded,"  said  Grace,  tempestuously. 
"  We  all  do,  every  one  of  us  except  Ardis,  and  she 
never  says  what  she  thinks,  anyhow.  It  is  all  a  kind 
of  parody  on  the  neat  little  statement  that  virtue  is  its 
own  reward.  The  fact  that  you  are  the  best  writer  in 
our  class  should  be  sufficient  without  further  recogni- 
tion. Oh,  what  keen  intuition,  what  vast  penetration 
it  must  have  needed  to  discover  signs  of  literary 
promise  in  Petunia  Blake !  My  dear,  does  n't  the 
very  presence  of  Petunia  prove  to  you  that  it 's  all 
absurd?" 

"  I  presume  that  Miss  Carlisle  had  the  final  revision 
of  the  list,"  said  Christine,  bitterly. 

"  Don't  you  believe  it !  I  think  that  there  's  some 
208 


"PIPPA   PASSES" 

terrible  mistake  somewhere,  and  that  Mau — that 
somebody  knows  what  it  is.  You  see  when  one  girl 
with  a  strong  will  gets  hold  of  a  lot  of  others  who 
don't  care  enough  about  anything  to  fight  for  it,  she 
is  very  likely  to  have  her  own  way.  And  oh,  if  there 
ever  was  an  intellectually  knock-kneed  set !  —  Well, 
I  'm  an  editor  myself  now,  and.  have  no  right  to  say 
anything  against  the  '  Prism.'  " 

Christine's  hand  trembled  a  little  then,  for  she  could 
not  have  said  anything  against  the  "  Prism."  She 
loved  it  loyally,  and  had  been  proud  of  it  from  the  day 
when  the  first  number  was  issued. 

"  A  person  that  cared  as  much  as  I  did  might  have 
done  —  something,"  she  thought.  "  Why  would  n't 
they  let  me  correct  proofs,  or  buy  the  ink  ?  It  would 
all  have  been  for  our  college." 

"  It  is  the  general  stupidity  and  footlessness  of 
everything  that  annoys  me,"  continued  Grace.  "  If  a 
girl  is  good  in  Chemistry  they  make  her  Ivy  Orator, 
or  if  she 's  a  fine  athlete  they  elect  her  Assistant 
Treasurer  of  the  Needlework  Guild.  Oh,  if  people 
knew  college  girls  as  we  do,  they  'd  never  be  afraid 
that  higher  education  is  going  to  put  any  too  much 
sense  into  them  !  " 

Christine  did  not  cry  when  she  reached  her  room, 
but  adopted  Clare's  plan  of  rolling  off  the  bed,  and 
lay  there  face  down  with  her  head  buried  in  her 
hands. 

"  It  was  my  last  chance  of  doing  anything,  having 
anything,  or  being  anything  at  college,"  she  said, 
"  and  it 's  gone  !  " 

She  put  a  "  Please  don't  disturb  "  sign  outside  her 
_door,  and  then  took  it  in  again  for  fear  that  some  of 
14  209 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

the  girls  would  think  she  had  gone  into  her  room 
to  cry. 

"  But  I  'm  so  absurdly  helpless  before  all  this,"  she 
thought  "And  yet  no  one  can  fulfil  my  ambition 
for  me.  I  must  make  my  own  place,  and  take  the 
responsibility  of  my  own  pain.  Oh,  I  wish  that  I 
could  learn  to  respect  this  '  most  of  the  best '  that  is  in 
me  —  only  because  it  is  the  most,  and  God  may  mean 
it  to  be  more !  Is  this  lack  of  recognition  due  to  the 
fact  that  I  have  n't  worked  hard  enough  ?  Or  is  it 
really  incapacity  —  a  case  of  x?  =  1 5  ?  "  It  would  have 
done  no  good  to  tell  her  that  every  one  must  put 
this  same  question  to  himself  at  some  time  in  his  life, 
and  discover  whether,  being  ^  he  cannot  still  be 
useful  in  remaining  15. 

"  I  wonder  why  it  is  that  young  people  never  have 
any  sense  of  proportion.  This  mere  loss  of  a  college 
honor  is  one  of  the  little  things  of  life,  one  of  the 
things  that  we  are  supposed  to  laugh  at  afterwards. 
And  yet  how  can  one's  older  self  laugh  at  anything 
that  meant  so  much  to  the  child?  There  —  now  I 
will  be  my  older  self,  and  pretend  that  this  is  all  in 
the  long  ago ;  I  will  stand  off  and  look  back  at  it  — 
perspective  is  never  so  useful  as  when  applied  to  a 
grief — but  oh,  the  child!  I  can  hear  it  crying 
still." 

She  wrestled  through  a  melancholy  morning  with 
her  older  self,  which  stood  rebukingly  distant  like  a 
phantom,  and  the  living  child  that  wept  and  wrung 
its  hands. 

"  After  all,"  she  thought,  as  the  dinner-bell  sounded, 
"  why  can't  I  adopt  Ardis's  policy  and  say  that  life  is 
too  short,  as  well  as  too  ridiculous,  to  make  a  fuss 

210 


"PIPPA   PASSES" 

about  little  things?  If  I  had  every  honor  in  college 
bestowed  upon  me,  I  don't  think  that  I  should  make 
a  fuss  about  little  things,  either !  What  was  it  that 
Clare  said  to  Stephen  the  other  night?  'Thorns  are 
little  steps  up  to  the  roses.'  Well,  I  only  hope  that 
when  I  have  scaled  up  all  my  thorns,  I  shall  not  find 
that  a  fat  green  worm  with  creepers  in  front  and 
whiskers  behind,  has  devoured  my  rose !  " 

When  she  opened  her  door,  she  found  a  little  note 
on  her  threshold,  that  had  evidently  been  brought 
from  the  bulletin  board. 

DEAR  CHRISTINE, — Wfll  you  come  to  our  room  at  nine 
to-night,  and  help  celebrate  in  honor  of  the  new  editors  ?  All 
of  the  clan  will  be  there. 

Yours,  SALOME. 

"What  extraordinary  continuity  on  the  part  of 
Salome !  "  she  thought ;  "  I  wonder  if  she  would  think 
it  boded  reluctance  if  I  sent  a  brief  note,  saying, 
*  Thanks,  I  won't  come.'  But  I  will  come,  though ;  I 
must,  and — thank  Heaven  for  an  inspiration,  I  '11  take 
the  cat!" 

The  girls  at  dinner  were  most  considerate,  and  re- 
frained from  talking  about  the  editorial  appointments, 
at  Christine's  table;  but  this  shamed  her,  and  she 
bravely  introduced  the  subject  herselfl 

Miss  Carlisle  was  expected  home  early  in  the  after- 
noon, and  Christine  decided  that  nothing  would  induce 
her  to  meet  her  professor  until  the  next  morning,  when 
she  should  have  recovered  from  the  first  sharpness  of 
her  disappointment  So  she  went  for  a  long  walk 
after  dinner,  and  took  supper  with  Ruth  that  night, 

211 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

learning  her  lessons  from  Ruth's  books,  and  keep- 
ing away  from  the  Hadley  until  it  was  time  to  go 
home  and  dress  for  the  editorial  celebration.  Then 
she  stole  in  at  the  back  door,  and  having  extracted 
Datisi  from  behind  the  kitchen  stove,  bore  him,  limp 
and  purring  drowsily,  to  her  room.  She  had  just 
completed  his  adornment,  in  the  shape  of  a  huge 
green  ribbon  bow,  when  somebody  came  to  tell  her 
that  Miss  Carlisle  wished  to  see  her  immediately. 

"What  can  she  have  to  say  to  me?"  thought 
Christine,  as  she  went  downstairs.  "  Is  she  going  to 
explain  why  —  no,  of  course  it  would  never  occur  to 
her  that  I  had  been  hoping  for  it.  She  probably 
wants  to  tell  me  that  my  paper  is  over-due." 

She  knocked  firmly  at  the  door,  trying  to  persuade 
herself  that  she  felt  perfectly  at  ease ;  but  when  Miss 
Carlisle  said,  "  Come  in,"  a  strange  foreboding  of 
something  dreadful  came  over  her,  and  she  scarcely 
dared  enter  the  room. 

Much  to  her  surprise,  she  found  the  professor  talk- 
ing to  Ardis  Hathaway,  who  had  just  risen  to  go 
when  Christine  came  in. 

"  I  think  Miss  Carlisle  might  at  least  have  seen  me 
alone,"  she  thought,  with  a  throb  of  indignation ;  and 
then  she  saw  something  in  Miss  Carlisle's  face  that 
made  her  feel  cold.  Was  it  a  certain  hardness  that 
had  not  been  there  before,  or  only  a  look  of  un- 
usually firm  resolve? 

"  Please  wait  a  few  minutes  longer,  Miss  Hatha- 
way," she  said,  "  and  help  me  explain  the  details  of 
this  affair  to  Miss  Arnold." 

"You  sent  for  me  — "  began  Christine,  looking 
somewhat  puzzled ;  and  Miss  Carlisle  said,  — 

212 


"PIPPA   PASSES" 

"  Yes,  I  wanted  you  to  understand  why  it  was  that 
you  received  no  editorial  appointment  this  morning." 

"  She  is  going  to  humiliate  me  before  Ardis," 
thought  Christine.  "  I  wonder  how  much  more  I 
shall  have  to  bear !  " 

Miss  Carlisle  waited  a  minute,  as  if  in  pity  for  her, 
and  then  said,  — 

"  Yesterday  afternoon,  when  I  was  on  the  point  of 
starting  for  Waverly,  Maude  Gilbert  came  to  my  room, 
to  show  me  the  list  of  new  editors  that  had  been 
selected  by  the  present  board.  The  list  contained 
several  names  that  I  should  not  have  chosen,  and 
omitted  one  that  had  a  distinct  right  to  be  there. 
But,  after  careful  consideration,  I  told  Miss  Gilbert 
that  I  approved  of  the  list,  with  the  exception  of  one 
person  who  has  absolutely  no  literary  ability,  and  of 
another  who  has  not  earned  the  position,  and  there- 
fore does  not  deserve  it." 

Christine  looked  at  Ardis,  with  terror  dawning  in 
her  eyes,  but  Ardis  appeared  to  be  quite  uncon- 
cerned. She  even  looked  a  little  amused,  and 
watched  Christine  curiously,  as  if  to  see  how  she 
would  take  the  revelation  to  come. 

"I  insisted,"  continued  Miss  Carlisle,  "that  this 
last  name  should  be  taken  off  the  list,  and  suggested 
a  certain  substitute ;  but  Miss  Gilbert  brought  up  the 
objection  that  the  majority  had  voted  against  her. 
I  asked  '  What  majority  ? '  as  there  are  but  seven 
editors,  and  Miss  Robinson  happens  to  be  away. 
Miss  Gilbert  said  that  they  had  written  to  her,  and 
although  it  surprised  me  to  hear  that  she  should  have 
voted  against  this  girl,  I  had  no  reason  to  believe  that 
Miss  Gilbert  would  wish  to  deceive  me.  So  I  decided  to 

213 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

take  the  matter  into  my  own  hands,  and  said, '  Make  no 
changes  in  the  list  until  I  return.  There  is  one  name 
here  that  must  come  off  at  all  events,  and  another 
that  must  go  on.' 

"  Miss  Gilbert  hastened  to  consult  the  person  whose 
name  was  to  be  omitted  from  the  list,  and  this  person 
evolved  a  plan  by  which  her  own  name  might  be  in- 
cluded at  the  expense  of — the  other." 

Christine  looked  appealingly  at  Ardis  for  an  expla- 
nation, but  none  came,  and  Miss  Carlisle  continued  : 

"  The  person  whose  name  was  to  be  struck  off 
the  list  suggested  that  the  Junior  appointments  be 
announced  during  my  absence,  and  formed  a  plan  by 
which  my  own  words  could  be  so  misrepresented  to 
the  editors  that  they  would  agree  to  this  arrange- 
ment. Miss  Gilbert  told  them  that  I  had  said  I 
approved  of  the  list, — which,  if  you  remember,  was 
only  a  part  of  my  sentence.  She  also  told  them  that 
I  had  said,  '  Make  no  changes,'  omitting  to  add, 
'until  I  return.'  I  also  discovered  that  she  had 
written  to  Miss  Robinson,  but  that  her  answer  had 
not  yet  been  received." 

Christine  had  grown  very  white,  but  said  noth- 
ing, and  after  a  moment  of  silence  Miss  Carlisle 
turned  to  Ardis. 

"  Miss  Hathaway,  would  you  mind  telling  your 
friend  what  name  was  to  have  been  omitted  from  the 
list?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Ardis,  with  calm  assur- 
ance ;  "  it  was  mine." 

"  Then  perhaps  you  would  not  mind  telling  her  the 
name  of  the  person  whose  place  you  are  now  occupy- 
ing on  the  editorial  board." 

214 


"PIPPA   PASSES" 

Christine  gave  Ardis  one  look  that  said,  as  dis- 
tinctly as  if  she  had  spoken :  "  I  trust  you  in  spite  of 
all  this.  You  have  only  to  say  that  you  did  not  do 
it,  and  I  will  believe  you." 

The  eyes  of  the  older  girl  darkened,  and  she  turned 
to  Christine,  as  if  they  two  had  been  alone  in  the 
world. 

"  Christabel,  my  darling  !  "  she  said,  "  there  is  but 
very  little  that  I  can  give  you  now,  nothing  that  you 
would  want  to  take —  nothing  that  you  would  care 
for,  dear.  You  had  much  better  let  me  go.  And 
yet  one's  very  last  fragment  of  self-respect  is  of  use 
in  a  time  like  this.  I  can  call  Miss  Carlisle  to  witness 
that  I  have  taken  the  whole  blame  in  this  affair,  that 
I  have  not  tried  to  shield  myself.  That  is  something, 
isn't  it,  dear?  Even  a  little  better  than  nothing? 
Oh,  Christabel,  don't  look  like  that !  " 

She  drew  a  quick  breath,  and  would  have  turned 
away,  but  Miss  Carlisle  said :  "  Wait  a  minute,  if  you 
please  !  Christine  has  not  yet  decided  what  is  to  be 
done  with  you.  As  you  have  obtained  this  position 
through  unfair  means,  of  course  you  cannot  expect  to 
keep  it.  To-morrow  morning  I  shall  have  all  these 
appointments  recalled." 

"  Do  you  mean,"  asked  Christine,  slowly,  "  that  you 
would  take  this  appointment  away  from  Ardis  and  — 
give  it  to  me  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  giving,"  answered  Miss 
Carlisle ;  "  it  is  yours  by  right.  I  can  easily  explain 
that,  owing  to  my  absence,  a  mistake  was  made  in 
the  appointments,  — which  would  be  perfectly  true." 

"Why  did  you  do  it?  "  asked  Christine,  turning  to 
Ardis ;  for  the  friendly  interest  that  had  always  led 

215 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

the   two   girls   to    investigate   each    other's   motives 
returned  to  her  then,  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

"  I  did  it  because  I  knew  that  I  wanted  the  position 
more  than  you  did,  Christine.  You  know  it  is  part 
of  my  philosophy  to  believe  that  the  person  who 
wants  a  thing  most,  ought  to  have  it." 

"  Did  n't  I  always  tell  you,"  asked  Christine,  with 
a  faint  smile,  "  that  your  philosophy  would  get  you 
into  trouble?" 

Ardis  smiled,  also,  at  the  memories  that  this  re- 
called, and  for  one  moment  these  two  friends  went 
back  hand  in  hand  to  the  old  footing  of  love  and 
confidence;  but  it  was  for  the  last  time  in  their 
lives. 

"  You  need  not  wait  to  hear  Christine's  decision," 
said  Miss  Carlisle,  quietly ;  "  that  will  be  known  by 
to-morrow  morning." 

"  I  shall  know  before  to-morrow  morning,"  said 
Ardis,  looking  into  Christine's  eyes.  "  I  shall  know 
before  you  do,  Miss  Carlisle,  because  I  know  now  !  " 
She  went  softly  out  of  the  room,  and  Christine  sat 
there  with  the  look  of  a  person  who  has  received  a 
mortal  blow. 

"  To-morrow  morning,"  said  Miss  Carlisle,  "  this 
will  all  be  made  right  again.  Try  and  forget  the 
rest." 

"  Oh  no,  oh  no  !  " 

Christine  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  Miss 
Carlisle  saw  that  she  was  struggling  to  regain  her 
self-control.  But  she  knew  that  this  child  was  strong, 
and  she,  too,  knew  what  the  answer  would  be. 

It  came  at  last.  "  Miss  Carlisle,  the  loss  of  this 
position  means  nothing  to  me  now.  Don't  you  see 

216 


"PIPPA   PASSES" 

that  —  that   I   have  lost — more?"     And  her  voice 
sank. 

"  But  you  would  like  the  appointment,  would  you 
not?  I  think  it  is  a  position  for  which  you  are  par- 
ticularly well  fitted." 

"  Yes,  you  want  me  to  realize  what  I  am  giving  up. 
I  understand.  Miss  Carlisle,  you  know  and  I  know 
that  this  is  all  over.  It  will  be  enough  for  me  to 
remember  afterwards  —  that  you  thought  I  deserved 
it." 

She  rose  and  went  to  the  door,  and  as  she  stood 
there  she  thought  that  the  little  clock  tick-ticked 
loudly,  as  if  in  pain.  Miss  Carlisle  came  to  her,  and 
took  one  hand  in  both  her  own. 

"  Christine,  I  will  write  your  father  about  this.  I 
will  tell  him  that  the  place  belonged  to  you,  that  you 
had  earned  it,  and  that  you  gave  it  up  rather  than  — 
I  will  tell  him  —  But  Christine  did  not  seem  to 
hear,  and  did  not  speak  until  she  felt  those  tears  that 
were  not  her  own  upon  her  outstretched  hand.  Then 
she  trembled  suddenly,  as  if  a  ghost  had  passed 
through  the  closed  door. 

"  Miss  Carlisle,"  she  said,  "  she  was  my  friend." 

She  looked  pitifully  around  the  room,  as  if  search- 
ing for  something  lost,  and  said  once  more :  "  She 
was  my  friend  !  " 

Then  she  went  swiftly  away,  and  Miss  Carlisle  did 
not  see  any  one  else  that  night. 

She  thought  that  she  was  beginning  to  realize  how 
a  doctor  feels  when  he  has  lost  a  patient.  The  fact 
that  she  had  distrusted  Ardis  for  so  long  made  the 
disappointment  no  easier  to  bear,  now  that  her  fears 
were  verified,  for  she  had  hoped  against  hope  that 

217 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

the  "  possibilities  of  right "  in  the  girl  might  prevail. 
The  part  that  Maude  Gilbert  had  played  in  the  affair 
made  her  feel  sick,  and  her  heart  still  ached  for 
Christine. 

"  It  seems  to  be  the  main  part  of  my  duty  here,  to 
inflict  pain,"  she  thought.  "  I  have  subjected  the 
child  to  the  severest  discipline  all  through  her  col- 
lege course,  in  order  that  she  might  be  ready  for  the 
highest  honors  in  her  Senior  year.  She  has  had  all 
the  drudgery,  she  has  had  all  the  suffering,  and  her 
reward  is — more  of  the  same  kind.  I  am  powerless 
to  help  her." 

The  little  clock  still  tick-ticked  loudly,  as  if  in  pain. 
"  Influence  is  something,"  she  thought.  "  I  have  had 
Maude  Gilbert  for  four  years.  Would  not  the  right 
kind  of  influence  have  prevented  this?  And  yet  it  is 
easy  to  see  that  the  older  girl  was  entirely  controlled 
by  her  love  for  the  younger.  Was  Ardis  Hathaway 
put  into  the  world  for  the  purpose  of  serving  it?  Is 
she  to  accomplish  any  great  good  in  this  dim  future 
for  which  she  is  living?  Will  she  always  continue  to 
ride  down  other  people  in  order  to  gain  her  own 
ends?" 

She  remembered  that  Ardis  had  told  the  truth 
from  beginning  to  end,  and  wondered  why  she  should 
have  made  a  point  of  this,  when  she  had  countenanced 
so  much  that  was  worse. 

But  Ardis  had  a  reason  for  everything  that  she  did, 
and  it  was  "  part  of  her  philosophy  "  to  regard  lying 
as  an  unscientific  proceeding.  "  To  lie,"  she  had 
once  said,  "  is  to  kill  a  situation  with  a  sand-bag, 
when  it  might  simply  be  held  up  and  passed  on." 

When  Miss  Carlisle  had  discovered  that  Ardis  was 
218 


"PIPPA  PASSES" 

inclined  to  tell  the  truth,  she  confronted  her  openly 
with  black-balling  Christine  in  her  Sophomore  year, 
and  asked  why  it  had  been  done.  She  was  not  at  all 
sure  that  Ardis  had  been  at  the  bottom  of  this,  but 
determined  to  find  out,  before  taking  certain  meas- 
ures with  regard  to  the  editorial  affair.  Ardis  was 
silent  for  a  minute,  while  her  mind  went  back,  as  it 
did  every  day,  to  a  certain  business  meeting  of  Phi 
Delta  Kappa  which  had  been  followed  by  a  concert 
at  Waverly.  She  heard  once  more  the  music  that 
had  leaped  like  a  light  through  the  church,  and  sud- 
denly the  room  became  suffocating  with  the  scent  of 
roses.  She  thought  that  her  pain  might  be  less  hard 
to  bear,  if  she  could  make  some  one  understand  how 
disloyal  and  dreadful  she  had  been. 

"  It  was  all  very  simple,"  she  answered.  "  I  had 
only  to  mention  to  a  few  of  the  Seniors  —  those  who 
would  not  take  pains  to  look  into  the  matter  —  that 
she  had  been  conditioned,  and  they  did  the  rest." 

"  Were  you  the  only  one  of  her  friends  who  knew 
of  this  condition?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  so.  I  advised  her  not  to  tell  any  one 
else." 

Miss  Carlisle  thought  that  this  girl  was  trying  to 
exasperate  her,  and  realized  that  she  must  not  allow 
herself  to  become  angry. 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  why  you  did  it?  " 
she  asked. 

"  For  a  number  of  reasons,  Miss  Carlisle ;  partly 
because  I  wished  to  gain  her  respect  by  having  some- 
thing that  she  did  not." 

"  And  it  was  immaterial  to  you  whether  she  suf- 
fered or  not?  " 

219 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

"  I  do  not  think  that  she  suffered.  She  has  plenty 
of  resources  in  herself,  and  I  thought  it  would  not 
hurt  her  to  wait  a  little  while." 

"  Upon  what  grounds  did  you  consider  yourself 
competent  to  judge  your  classmate  ? " 

"  On  the  ground  of  my  common-sense,  Miss  Car- 
lisle. I  knew  that  she  would  be  taken  into  one  of  the 
societies  this  year,  and  that  she  would  never  hear  of 
the  black-balling." 

"  Your  calculations  went  somewhat  astray  in  that 
direction,  for  she  did  hear  of  it  soon  after  it  happened." 

Ardis  turned  absolutely  white.  "  Does  she,  does 
she  know  —  " 

"  No.  To  tell  her  that  you  did  it  would  be  un- 
necessary cruelty.  She  will  have  to  know  enough,  as 
it  is." 

Ardis  rose  and  walked  to  the  window.  Then  she 
turned  around  and  studied  the  professor's  face  a  few 
minutes,  and  said  desperately :  "  What  are  you  going 
to  do  with  me?  " 

The  victory  belonged  to  Miss  Carlisle,  but  there 
had  been  less  victory  than  pain. 

"  I  am  going  to  send  for  Christine,  and  allow  you 
to  endorse  some  of  the  statements  that  I  shall  make 
with  regard  to  this  editorial  affair." 

It  was  only  then  that  Ardis  began  to  plead,  and 
although  she  was  too  proud  to  speak,  it  seemed  as  if 
her  eyes  must  break  the  silence. 

"  I  would  rather  you  would  kill  me  than  do  this," 
they  said  again  and  again ;  and  Miss  Carlisle  an- 
swered carelessly,  — 

"  But  all  this  must  seem  very  trivial,  in  compari- 
son with  the  honor  of  being  an  editor  of  the '  Prism.'  " 

220 


"PIPPA   PASSES" 

Ardis  made  no  reply,  and  Miss  Carlisle  went  to 
the  door.  "  Send  Miss  Arnold  down  here  immedi- 
ately," she  said  to  some  one  who  was  passing  in  the 
hall;  but  as  she  stood  there,  she  thought  that  she 
heard  a  quick  sob  in  the  room  behind  her. 

And  now,  while  she  sat  alone  still  thinking  of  it  all, 
the  two  girls  were  at  the  editorial  spread  together. 

"Our  Ninety-five  cat  made  us  a  visit  the  other 
night,"  said  Clare,  turning  his  ears  inside  out. 
"  Ardis  and  I  were  cooking  oysters  in  my  room,  and 
he  dropped  in  as  if  by  accident.  When  urged  to 
remain,  he  looked  self-conscious,  and  said,  '  Well,  I 
hardly  think  I  ought,  because  I  'm  due  at  the  Hadley 
now,  and  they  don't  know  I  'm  out ;  but  since  you 
press  me,  —  yes.'  " 

"  He  has  a  terrible  way  of  accepting  invitations 
that  have  not  been  given,"  said  Christine.  "  When- 
ever there  is  any  kind  of  party  on  the  campus,  he  in- 
variably turns  up,  and  pretends  that  I  sent  him. 
Strange  people  rush  up  to  me  in  chapel,  and  allude 
to  him  as  my  '  sweet  little  kitten,'  which  means  that 
he  has  been  presiding,  unbidden,  at  some  private 
spread." 

"  We  want  to  borrow  him  for  a  little  entertainment 
at  our  house  next  week,  if  we  may,"  said  Ardis, 
gently.  "  Each  performer  is  entitled  to  three  tickets, 
so  he  '11  be  allowed  to  invite  his  friends." 

"  I  think  he  will  accept  with  pleasure,"  said  Chris- 
tine, "  especially  if  there  are  things  to  eat.  He  was 
an  usher  at  our  house  when  we  gave  'The  Mouse- 
Trap,'  and  seemed  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  it." 

The  supper  was  over  at  last,  and  Christine  rushed 
out  into  the  night  air  with  her  long  cloak  flying  be- 

221 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

hind  her,  and  Datisi  struggling  impatiently  in  her 
arms.  He  knew  that  they  were  going  for  a  walk, 
and  when  she  put  him  down,  he  tore  on  ahead  of  her 
with  dancing  tail,  to  hide  behind  every  tree,  and 
spring  out  at  her  as  she  passed. 

When  they  reached  the  Marston  elm,  Christine 
stopped  and  looked  at  the  one  branch  that  caught 
the  light  from  the  kitchen  window.  The  tree  seemed 
to  gather  itself  up  as  she  stood  there,  and  then  to 
bend  towards  her  with  a  great  sweep  of  sympathy,  as 
if  it  would  have  taken  her  to  itself. 

"  You  see,"  said  a  quiet  voice  at  her  side,  "  it  un- 
derstands everything." 

"  Clare !  I  did  n't  hear  you  come.  Do  you  sup- 
pose it  really  knows  that  this  is  a  disappointing 
world?" 

"  Come  and  see  the  breathing  tree  next  to  this  one. 
It  is  in  two  parts,  and  therefore  not  so  dignified,  but 
when  you  're  sorrowful  it  will  put  its  arms  around 
you." 

Christine  allowed  herself  to  be  led  by  the  soft  little 
hand  and  pushed  gently  between  the  two  trees  that 
grew  from  one  root.  The  wind  rushed  through  the 
great  elm,  and  at  the  same  time  something  stirred  at 
Christine's  side.  It  was  as  if  the  twin  trees  had  drawn 
but  one  breath  together,  and  then  they  "  put  their 
arms  around  her." 

She  turned  around  and  felt  of  them  curiously,  half 
expecting  to  see  some  witch  form  glide  down  into  the 
grass  and  disappear.  But  the  trees  were  still. 

"  Clare,  they  did  breathe !  I  never  felt  anything 
like  it  before.  Do  they  breathe  in  the  daytime  too  ? 
Did  you  discover  them  yourself?  " 

222 


"PIPPA  PASSES" 

"  They  breathe  when  the  wind  is  high.  Christine, 
I  'm  going  song-hunting  to-morrow  morning  before 
breakfast.  Won't  you  come  with  me,  if  I  stop  and 
call  under  your  window?" 

"  Indeed  I  will,  little  dear.     Good-night." 

The  twenty  minutes  of  ten  bell  rang  along  the 
Marston  House  corridors,  as  Christine  sped  on  her 
way,  and  in  her  haste  to  reach  home  she  nearly  upset 
a  number  of  Astronomy  students,  who  were  stagger- 
ing about  in  front  of  the  Observatory  with  upturned 
faces,  and  notebooks  that  contained  mysterious  dots, 
pencilled  one  upon  the  other. 

"  I  wish  I  could  have  taken  Astronomy ! "  she 
thought;  and  then  she  remembered  how  she  and 

o          ' 

Ardis  had  always  talked  over  their  Electives  together. 
"  Everything  is  associated  with  her.  Nothing  can  be 
complete  any  more,  not  even  the  memory  of  what 
little  I  have  accomplished.  I  can  have  no  memory 
that  is  free  from  her." 

She  did  not  light  the  gas  when  she  reached  home, 
for  fear  that  some  of  the  girls  would  come  in  to  see 
her. 

"  Why  could  n't  there  have  been  one  person  who 
was  absolutely  beautiful?"  she  thought.  "No,  not 
perfect,  but  beautiful  to  look  at  and  beautiful  to  know. 
I  suppose  that  a  person  like  that  could  not  be  allowed 
in  a  world  so  full  of  incompleteness.  Because  she 
came  so  near  —  so  near  to  the  truth,  her  nature  must 
of  course  contain  a  lie.  Only  because  she  came  so 
near  to  being  a  perfect  thing  with  her  wonderful 
mind,  her  beauty,  and  her  gifts,  she  must  needs  be 
dishonorable  to  maintain  the  balance." 

There  was  not  much  sleep  in  Number  2  Hadley 
223 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

that  night;  but  when  morning  drew  near,  Christine 
found  herself  wandering  hand  in  hand  with  Ardis 
through  beautiful  places ;  and  then  came  the  cry  of 
waking  day  to  tell  her  that  it  had  been  all  a  dream. 
She  sat  up  and  threw  off  the  blankets,  because  they 
seemed  so  heavy,  and  then  she  realized  that  the 
weight  was  on  her  own  heart. 

"  How  silly  of  me  !  "  she  thought.  "  Why  does  n't 
Clare  come?  But  no,  it  is  too  early." 

She  pulled  aside  the  curtain,  and  looked  out  at  the 
sky  which  held  all  the  possibilities  of  a  day.  It  was 
faintly  pink  and  mysterious ;  the  birds  had  not  yet 
begun  to  sing. 

"  That  sky  holds  all  the  past  of  yesterday  and  the 
future  of  to-day  !  Why  does  n't  Clare  come?  " 

She  felt  greatly  in  need  of  the  help  that  Clare 
might  give,  but  knew  that  she  could  not  ask  for  it, 
because  Clare  must  never  know  what  had  happened. 

"  I  believe  it  would  kill  her,"  she  thought.  "  My 
one  comfort  will  be  that  I  can  save  her  from  all 
knowledge  of —  of  what  Ardis  really  is." 

She  lay  down  on  the  bed  and  fell  asleep  for  a  few 
minutes,  dreaming,  as  people  often  do,  that  what  she 
was  expecting  had  come  to  pass.  She  and  Clare 
were  walking  through  the  sunrise,  and  Clare  liad 
said,  "Tell  me  everything;  I  shall  understand." 
And  the  desire  for  sympathy  was  so  great  that 
Christine  could  not  resist  it,  and  told  her  every- 
thing. Then  she  awoke  with  a  start  and  thought: 
"Oh,  I  have  told  her  —  I  have  told  her,  after  all! 
No !  I  have  been  asleep.  But  how  could  I  be  so 
weak  as  to  tell  her,  even  in  my  sleep !  " 

She  dressed  hurriedly  and  sat  down  by  the  window 
224 


"PIPPA   PASSES" 

to  wait  for  Clare.  The  birds  were  awake  now,  and  a 
few  early  sunbeams  were  drawn  through  the  tree-tops 
like  the  strings  of  a  harp.  The  leaves  were  shaken  by 
a  sweet,  melodious  clamor  that  came  from  invisible 
throats ;  and  as  Christine  listened  she  heard  another 
song  climb  towards  her  through  the  yellow  morning. 

"  The  year  's  at  the  spring, 
And  day  's  at  the  morn  ; 
Morning  's  at  seven, 
The  hill-side  's  dew-pearled." 

She  took  her  hat,  and  crept  down  to  the  front 
door,  while  the  song  came  nearer  still. 

"  The  lark  's  on  the  wing, 
The  snail 's  on  the  thorn ; 
God 's  in  his  heaven, 
All 's  right  with  the  world  !  " 

The  song  was  hushed  now,  as  the  singer  stopped 
under  a  side  window  of  the  Hadley,  and  called  softly, 
"  Christine !  " 

"  Good  morning,  Pippa,"  was  the  unexpected  an- 
swer. "Where  did  you  find  that  melody?  It  sounds 
as  if  it  might  have  been  hidden  in  a  flower." 

"  No,  I  got  it  from  the  birds,"  said  Clare.  "  That 
last  chord  —  it  is  a  chord  in  my  mind,  you  know  — 
was  hard  to  find,  because  the  birds  would  n't  stop 
singing  a  minute.  They  seemed  to  know  I  wanted 
to  finish  the  melody,  and  only  sang  the  faster;  but 
suddenly  an  old  brown  bird  plumped  down  on  the 
breathing  tree,  and  gave  me  just  the  note  that  I 
wanted.  It  made  a  chord  with  all  the  others,  and 
I  must  write  it  down  soon,  or  it  will  fly  away  when 
the  singers  do." 

15  225 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Let 's  go  up  and  visit  our  guardian  angels,"  said 
Christine.  "  I  have  always  thought  of  them  as 
guardian  angels,  since  that  first  night  at  college, 
Clare." 

"  And  why  should  n't  they  be?  If  Michael  Angelo 
thought  that  every  block  of  stone  is  the  prison  of 
some  grand  form,  he  might  have  been  able  to  show 
us  Mt.  Waverly  and  Mt.  Gwynn  as  they  really  are,  — 
two  mighty  creatures  resting  on  their  swords,  dressed 
all  in  green,  with  hair  blowing  yellow  in  the  wind." 

"  Clare,  why  did  you  want  me  to  come  out  with 
you  this  morning?"  asked  Christine,  suddenly. 

Clare  laughed.  "Why  must  I  have  had  a  reason? 
You  are  my  friend,  are  you  not?  And  the  day  is 
very  beautiful." 

But  there  had  been  another  reason  for  bringing 
Christine  out  into  the  morning,  although  she  knew 
that  nothing  could  make  the  editorial  disappoint- 
ment any  easier  to  bear.  She  felt  that  Christine 
must  be  taken  to  the  out-of-door  friends  who  under- 
stood her  best,  and  who  were  themselves  the  "  Ever- 
lasting Yea,"  in  a  world  of  question  and  of  doubt. 

"  The  arbutus  will  be  out  soon,"  she  said,  as  they 
reached  the  grove  opposite  their  old  boarding-place 
on  the  hill. 

"  I  am  glad  the  bloodroot  is  gone,"  said  Christine. 
"  The  first  flower  of  the  year  would  naturally  suffer 
more." 

They  crossed  Mrs.  Hemp's  yard,  and  sat  down  at 
the  top  of  a  long  flight  of  steps  which  led  down  the 
hill  on  the  other  side. 

The  watchers  over  Harland  were  still  gray  in  the 
shadow,  like  pussy-willows,  but  in  the  sun  they  were 

226 


"PIPPA   PASSES" 

bright  with  delicate  slants  of  green.   Wandering  melo- 
dies were  afloat  in  the  air. 

"  How  strange  it  is,"  said  Christine,  "  to  be  outside 
of  the  sunshine.  I  can  see  that  it  is  here,  and  I  can 
put  my  hand  into  it,  but  I  do  not  feel  it  at  all." 

"  I  am  going  to  leave  you  alone  now,"  said  Clare. 
"  You  can  talk  to  them  better  if  I  am  not  here,  and  I 
must  write  down  my  bird  song  before  it  is  gone. 
Good-bye,  dear,  and  don't  forget  to  come  home  in 
time  for  breakfast." 

She  went  away,  and  Christine  was  left  alone  with 
the  shadow  of  the  friend  she  had  lost.  It  was  because 
of  this  shadow  that  she  could  not  feel  the  sunshine 
when  she  stretched  out  her  hand.  She  knew  that 
the  mountains  were  listening  to  hear  what  she  would 
say,  but  there  was  nothing  to  tell  them  that  morning. 
The  sunbeams  stole  up,  and  touched  her  with  joyous 
fingers,  then  drew  back,  as  if  wondering  that  she  was 
no  longer  one  of  themselves. 

"  I  cannot  bear  it !  "  she  cried,  and  sprang  to  her 
feet;  but  at  the  moment  when  she  found  that  she 
could  not  bear  it,  something  broke  like  a  song 
from  the  mountains,  and,  rushing  over  the  meadows, 
wrapped  her  in  a  strange  new  sweetness  and  strength. 
She  felt  that  it  was  coming,  and  now  it  was  here,  — 
the  great  nearness  that  she  had  never  known  before. 

The  birds  began  to  sing  again,  and  a  flower  that 
had  been  waiting  in  the  grass  grew  suddenly  sweet. 
She  put  her  hand  out  into  the  sunshine,  and  felt  that 
it  was  warm. 

"  That  was  God,"  she  thought,  as  she  turned 
towards  home.  "  I  wonder  why  it  was  that  I  never 
understood  before  !  " 

227 


CHAPTER   XV 

JUNIOR   USHERING 

CLARE  and  Ardis  Hathaway  were  sitting  in  a 
hammock  on  the  back  campus,  frankly  and  undis- 
guisedly  discussing  men.  It  was  fitting,  and  alto- 
gether desirable,  to  be  discussing  them  now,  when 
the  Prom  was  only  three  weeks  ahead,  and  every  one 
understood  that  the  subject  would  be  dropped  con- 
scientiously later  on. 

People  were  already  waylaying  each  other  in 
chapel  to  ask  with  bated  breath,  "  Have  you  got 
him?"  and  severe,  indeed,  were  the  epithets  applied 
to  him  who  would  not  come.  Nobody  was  supposed 
to  have  more  than  one  invitation;  but  the  girls  who 
wished  to  invite  a  large  number  of  men  overcame 
this  difficulty  by  distributing  them  generously  among 
the  people  who  had  no  men  at  all. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  ought  to  ask  Stephen  Arnold," 
said  Clare,  doubtfully ;  "  he  invited  me  to  Class  Day, 
and  Mrs.  Arnold  arranged  to  have  me  go  up  with 
Christine  and  Ruth,  and  stay  with  them  all  in  Cam- 
'bridge.  But  somehow  I  don't  feel  —  and  of  course 
it  is  n't  certain  that  I  '11  go." 

"What  don't  you  feel?"  asked  Ardis,  amused. 
"  You  ought  to  have  a  number  of  feelings." 

"  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  knew  him  well  enough  to  ask 
him  to  the  Prom." 

228 


JUNIOR  USHERING 

"  He  knew  you  well  enough  to  ask  you  to  Class 
Day." 

"  Yes ;   but  men  are  different." 

"  No,  they  are  not  —  except  that  all  the  faults 
they  laugh  at  in  women,  they  have  to  a  worse  extent 
themselves." 

"  I  never  knew  anything  about  men,"  said  Clare. 
"  The  men  at  home  are  all  Ethel's  friends,  not  mine." 

"  It  's  time  that  you  had  some,  then.  There  is  a 
masculine  side  to  every  woman,  just  as  there  is  a 
feminine  element  in  every  man,  and  I  think  that  we 
need  both  influences  in  our  growing  up.  But  I  was 
brought  up  too  much  by  men;  I  — 

"  What  were  you  going  to  say?  "  asked  Clare. 

"  Nothing ;  only  if  a  woman  has  got  to  be,  I  think 
it 's  a  good  plan  to  have  another  woman  around, 
who  got  there  first.  A  woman's  feelings  are  like  a 
cat  that  shoots  across  the  street  and  squeezes 
through  an  impossible  hole  in  the  fence  to  get  away 
from  the  dogs.  Feelings  are  sure  to  be  barked  at, 
if  they  show  themselves  in  public." 

"  I  don't  think  that  the  college  girls  bark  at  each 
other,"  said  Clare.  "  Feelings  are,  after  all,  such 
universal  things ;  we  all  have  them,  and  the  feelings 
that  we  girls  have  at  this  stage  in  the  game  are 
pretty  much  the  same.  So  what  is  the  use  in  trying 
so  hard  to  conceal  them?  " 

"  Women  do  understand  each  other  abominably," 
said  Ardis.  "  Who  was  it-  that  said  '  Women  under- 
stand one  another  in  flashes '?  " 

"  Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps  —  who  knows.  Ardis, 
who  are  you  going  to  ask  to  the  Prom?  I  told 
you  who  I  was  going  to  have." 

229 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  I  thought  you  did  n't  know  him  well  enough. 
Well,  I  'm  going  to  ask  some  one  that  I  know  very 
well  indeed  —  George  Slater,  of  Wyckham  —  Ninety- 
four.  You  Ve  seen  him  up  here." 

"  Yes,  and  I  was  hoping  that  I  would  never  see 
him  again." 

"  Why,  why  !  "  said  Ardis,  laughing.  "  What  have 
you  against  George?  " 

"  Don't  call  him  that." 

"  I  '11  call  him  what  I  please.  Who  has  been 
talking  to  you  about  him?" 

"  No  one.  He  is  not  the  kind  of  man  that  people 
like  to  talk  about." 

Ardis  looked  dangerous;  but  when  Clare  was 
roused,  she  possessed  the  often  undesirable  quality 
of  fearing  nothing. 

"  The  great  disadvantage  of  inexperience,"  said 
Ardis,  crushingly,  "  is  that  people  believe  everything 
that  they  are  told." 

"What  is  the  use  of  talking  nonsense?"  asked 
Clare.  "  Everybody  knows  that  Mr.  Slater  is  wild, 
and  that  he  was  expelled  from  another  college 
before  he  came  to  Wyckham.  I  should  n't  think 
you  would  like  to  ask  a  man  that  other  girls  don't 
'  want  to  dance  with  !  " 

"  He  is  a  very  good  dancer,"  said  Ardis,  smiling, 
for  she  was  not  accustomed  to  being  angry  with 
Clare,  and  thought  that  it  would  be  easy  to  laugh 
her  out  of  this  new  prejudice. 

"Don't  you  think  it  is  better  to  look  for  what  is 
good  in  people  than  what  is  bad  ?  "  she  continued. 
"  If  Mr.  Slater  has  a  fine  mind  and  rather  unusual 
gifts,  why  should  I  refuse  to  know  him  ?  His  private 

230 


JUNIOR  USHERING 

character  does  not  concern  me  in  the  least,  any  more 
than  mine  does  him.     It 's  none  of  my  business." 

Clare  said  nothing. 

"  If  a  fine  musician  or  a  fine  actor  is  known  to  be 
morally  uncertain,  does  it  prevent  people  from  going 
to  see  him  ?  Is  n't  it  better  to  take  people  for  what 
they  are,  than  to  berate  them  for  what  they  are 
not?" 

"  You  do  not  make  a  friend  of  any  actor  or  musi- 
cian simply  by  going  to  hear  him,"  said  Clare.  "  He 
merely  represents  his  art,  and  you  never  know  any 
other  side  of  him.  But  you  evidently  believe  that  the 
best  way  to  avert  evil  is  to  ignore  it.  I  do  not !  " 

"  Well,  you  certainly  can't  say  that  I  Ve  ignored 
George  !  He  's  been  up  from  New  York  three  times 
this  year  already." 

"  If  there  was  a  case  of  small-pox  in  your  vicinity, 
I  suppose  you  would  advise  any  one  not  to  try  to 
avoid  the  small-pox  patient,  if  he  or  she  happened 
to  be  a  very  gifted  person !  Your  arguments  might 
possibly  be  listened  to,  until  you  caught  the  small- 
pox and  died  of  it." 

"  Not  if  you  were  vaccinated !  "  said  Ardis,  seri- 
ously. "  Would  n't  it  be  great  to  have  a  hospital  for 
that  kind  of  inoculation!  Ward  No.  I,  for  conceit 
and  its  moral  complications.  Ward  No.  2,  for  self- 
ishness in  its  most  violent  form.  Ward  No.  3,  for 
falling  in  love.  It  would  be  rather  fun  to  inoculate 
people  with  the  wrong  thing  now  and  then,  and  they 
could  n't  get  back  where  they  were  before,  because 
their  point  of  view  would  be  entirely  changed." 

Clare  struggled  slowly  out  of  the  hammock,  and 
walked  away. 

231 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"Good-bye,"  called  Ardis,  cheerfully,  but  she  did 
not  answer. 

That  night  Ardis  went  into  18  Marston,  and  found 
Clare  sitting  alone  by  the  window.  The  room  was 
dark,  and  outside  one  could  hear  the  soft  talking  of 
trees. 

"  I  came  to  tell  you  that  I  won't  ask  him,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  want  you  to  promise  that  you  will  never 
look  at  me  again  as  you  did  this  afternoon." 

She  knelt  down  beside  the  chair  and  put  her  arms 
around  Clare's  neck. 

"I  —  I  will  promise,"  began  Clare,  and  then  a  large 
tear  fell  down  and  splashed  unceremoniously  upon 
Ardis's  nose. 

"  And  you  do  love  me,  don't  you?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Ever  and  ever  so  much?  " 

"  All  the  much  that  there  is." 

"  Good-night,  little  Clare." 

"  Good-night,  my  dearest !  " 

The  Prom  was  even  more  successful  than  any  one 
had  anticipated.  The  Juniors  and  Seniors  were  able 
to  dance  without  being  demolished  by  their  neigh- 
bors, and  the  Sophomores,  who  had  decorated  the 
Gymnasium,  danced  on  the  concrete  walks  outside, 
while  the  festivity  went  on.  The  Freshmen  waitresses 
revelled  in  three  different  kinds  of  ice-cream,  and 
were  caught  by  the  Refreshment  Functionary  from 
down-town,  while  trying  to  smuggle  salad  through 
the  windows  of  the  basement  to  friends  on  the  lawn. 
The  orchestra  was  obliged  to  repeat  the  last  waltz 
three  times,  in  response  to  the  enthusiastic  encores ; 
and  it  was  not  until  the  musicians  had  folded  up  their 

232 


JUNIOR  USHERING 

instruments  in  funereal  dark  cloths  and  the  lights 
had  been  turned  down,  that  the  company  was  willing 
to  disperse.  Then  the  few  nocturnal  spirits  who 
happened  to  be  gazing  out  of  their  windows  upon  the 
moonlit  campus,  saw  visions  of  dainty  ghosts  in  even- 
ing wraps,  each  accompanied  by  a  stalking  black 
shadow,  who  faded  away  into  nothingness  when  the 
night-watchman  came  along  and  hustled  the  ghost 
into  the  house.  In  the  morning  everybody  went  to 
chapel,  and  the  10.50  train  for  New  York  carried  off 
more  select  dress-suit  cases  than  had  assembled  in 
South  Harland  for  some  time. 

The  upper-class  girl  smoothed  the  wrinkles  out 
of  her  best  gown,  and  laid  it  away  with  a  regretful 
little  sigh.  There  was  something  so  irrelevant  and 
yet  so  fascinating  about  that  evening  dress,  tossed 
over  a  chair  that  tilted  back  among  the  Greek  and 
Latin  lexicons !  It  seemed  like  a  gay  and  frivolous 
self  come  back  to  laugh  at  her.  There  was  something 
annoying,  also,  in  the  sight  of  that  one  satin  shoe, 
planted  impudently  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  where 
it  had  no  business  to  be.  And  yet  the  Senior  had 
not  liked  to  put  it  away  the  night  before,  because 
there  was  so  much  music  in  it !  She  looked  at  the 
low-necked  dress  again,  and  wondered  if  it  knew  that 
she  had  not  learned  her  Psychology  lesson.  Then 
she  shook  it  vigorously,  and  carried  it  back  to  a  trunk 
in  the  attic,  together  with  the  long  white  gloves,  which 
she  knew  could  not  be  cleaned.  Coming  back  to  her 
room,  she  gazed  at  the  bowl  of  fading  roses  on  her 
desk,  put  a  little  mark  under  one  of  the-  names  on 
her  dancing-card,  and  —  took  up  her  Psychology. 

Christine  went  over  to  Clare's  room  soon  after  reci- 
233 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

tation  and  said,  'Well,  how  did  you  like  it?  And 
have  you  heard  from  your  mother  yet  about  Class 
Day?" 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  answered  Clare,  who  held  an  open 
letter  in  her  hand,  "  and  she  says  I  may  go.  Oh, 
Christine,  my  sister  Ethel  is  engaged  to  be  married  ! 
and  —  I  think  she  might  have  told  me  she  was 
going  to." 

"  People  do  not  generally  divulge  their  plans  in 
that  direction,  Clare.  How  fresh  your  flowers  are  !  " 

"  Yes,  your  brother  said  that  he  was  going  to  divide 
the  bouquet  into  two  parts,  so  that  one  would  be  fresh 
for  this  morning.  I  thought  it  was  a  beautiful  plan ; 
but  last  night  there  was  a  great  bunch  of  roses,  and 
this  morning  as  many  lilies  of  the  valley,  and  I  don't 
think  it 's  quite  fair,  do  you  —  when  I  'm  only  one 
girl?" 

"  Stephen  knows  how  much  you  care  for  them," 
said  Christine.  "  I  love  them  too,  and  he  sends  them 
to  me  very  often,  when  we  are  anywhere  near  each 
other." 

"  I  should  think  you  would  miss  him,  Christine.  I 
don't  mean  in  connection  with  the  flowers." 

"  I  do  miss  him,  every  day  of  my  life  !  " 

"  I  wonder  if  my  Prom  dress  will  be  suitable  to 
usher  in,"  said  Clare,  referring  to  her  letter.  "  Mamma 
wants  to  know.  What  shall  you  wear  to  usher  in  at 
Dramatics,  Christine?" 

"  I  am  not  going  to  usher;  Ardis  has  not  appointed 
me." 

Clare  looked  absolutely  aghast. 

"  Not  appointed  you  —  when  you  ran  against  her 
for  President?  Why,  that  couldn't  be!  No  one 

234 


JUNIOR   USHERING 

ever  heard  of  such  a  thing.  Are  you  sure  that  she 
has  n't  appointed  you?  " 

"  I  should  have  been  likely  to  hear  of  it  if  she  had/' 
said  Christine,  smiling.  "  When  is  your  sister  to  be 
married,  Clare?  " 

"  Next  winter,  and  I  shall  insist  upon  having 
mamma  spend  the  rest  of  the  year  with  me,  for  she  '11 
be  all  alone.  Oh,  Christine,  it 's  terrible  to  have  your 
sister  engaged,  —  simply  terrible  !  And  I  Ve  been 
wondering  all  the  time  why  she  would  n't  come  up 
and  see  me,  and  now  I  know  it  was  all  because  of  that 
man." 

"  I  should  like  to  meet  your  sister,"  said  Christine, 
trying  not  to  laugh.  "  Is  she  anything  like  you?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  said  Clare,  indignantly.  "  / 
would  n't  get  engaged." 

The  Leader  of  the  Glee  Club  came  in  at  that 
moment,  to  ask  Clare  about  some  music  that  they 
were  transposing  for  the  next  rehearsal,  and  Christine 
went  away;  but  Clare  was  so  disturbed  over  what 
Christine  had  told  her  about  the  Junior  ushering,  that 
she  frequently  wrote  the  second  alto  parts  in  the 
first  soprano,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  rubbing  them 
out  afterwards,  stems  and  all. 

It  is  desirable  to  be  a  Junior  usher  for  several  rea- 
sons: First,  because  one  officiates,  in  a  becoming 
gown,  at  all  the  Commencement  exercises ;  secondly, 
because  it  is  a  great  compliment  to  be  one  of  a 
limited  number,  chosen  by  the  Junior  President  to 
represent  her  class.  As  one  of  the  uninvited  once 
said:  "  There  are  four  kinds  of  Junior  ushers,  —  the 
popular  girls,  the  pretty  girls,  the  well-dressed  girls, 
and  the  girls  that  no  one  but  the  President  would 

235 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

have  thought  of."  We  all  know  by  experience  that 
the  uninvited  have  a  clever  way  of  saying  things,  and 
that  some  of  the  things  they  say  are  true ! 

Clare  could  scarcely  believe  that  Ardis  had  intended 
to  omit  Christine,  for  Ruth  had  been  appointed,  and 
Kathleen,  and  Rachel,  and  all  the  others  of  "  the 
clan;"  so  she  determined  to  find  out,  if  possible, 
where  the  trouble  lay. 

"  Ardis,"  she  said  that  evening,  "  have  you  appointed 
all  the  ushers  yet?  We  want  to  know  how  many 
there  are  to  be,  so  as  to  order  our  hoop-sticks  in  a 
body  and  save  expense." 

The  ushers'  wands  were  usually  made  of  hoopsticks, 
or  pieces  of  flag-staff,  wound  with  white  satin  ribbon. 

"  The  list  of  names  is  up  in  my  desk  somewhere," 
answered  Ardis,  carelessly.  "  I  had  five  more  than 
usual  this  year,  because  the  Seniors  say  there  are 
never  enough  at  Collation." 

"  Has  Christine  told  you  what  she  is  going  to 
wear?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  think  so.     Has  she  told  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  in  fact  I  heard  this  morning  that  she  had  not 
been  appointed,  but  thought  it  must  be  a  mistake." 

"  It  is  well  to  be  able  to  recognize  a  mistake  when 
you  hear  it,"  said  Ardis.  "  I  suppose  that  the  over- 
tones of  a  mistake  must  be  out  of  harmony  with  the 
C  major  of  principle.  You  see,  I  use  a  musical 
analogy,  because  it  is  one  that  you  are  likely  to 
understand." 

Clare  looked  puzzled,  but,  remembering  her  Logic, 
reasoned  that  because  she  could  understand  a  musical 
analogy,  it  did  not  necessarily  follow  that  she  would 
fail  to  understand  another  kind  ! 

236 


JUNIOR  USHERING 

"  Well,  I  'm  glad  that  you  've  asked  her,  anyway," 
she  said.  "  I  knew,  of  course,  that  you  would." 

But  she  also  knew  that  Ardis  had  not  given  a  defi- 
nite answer  to  her  question. 

That  evening  she  happened  to  be  passing  Lincoln 
Hall  when  meeting  of  the  Symposium  broke  up,  and 
Mildred  Wyman  overtook  her  before  she  reached 
the  house. 

"  Did  you  know  that  a  committee  from  the  class 
has  called  upon  Ardis,  to  ask  her  to  appoint  Chris- 
tine? "  she  said.  "  We  were  talking  about  it  this  even- 
ing, and  the  girls  think  that  it 's  simply  unpardonable, 
—  when  Christine  practically  gave  her  the  presidency ! 
Ardis  yielded  a  little ;  at  least  she  told  the  girls  they 
might  take  the  message,  and  they  did,  and  probably 
have  it  now,  for  Christine  declined  to  receive  it.  I 
don't  believe  that  I  should  have  accepted  it  in  that 
way  myself." 

"  Oh  dear,  I  thought —  I  hoped  that  she  had  been 
appointed,"  said  Clare.  "  What  will  Ardis  say?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  as  I  care !  "  said  Mildred, 
indignantly.  "  There  are  a  great  many  people  in 
Ninety-five  who  think  that  our  pretty  class  President 
is  not  a  paying  investment." 

Clare  was  much  disappointed  in  Ardis,  but  knew 
that  there  had  been  some  trouble  between  her  two 
friends,  and  thought  that  Ardis  might  have  had  more 
excuse  for  her  conduct  than  any  one  imagined ;  there 
were  always  two  sides  to  a  story,  no  matter  how 
one-sided  and  convincing  the  story  might  appear. 

To  do  Ardis  justice,  she  had  fully  intended  to 
appoint  Christine ;  but  Christine  had  ignored  her  so 
completely,  since  the  night  of  the  editorial  supper, 

237 


that  she  had  found  no  opportunity.  She  thought 
of  writing  her  a  note,  but  feared  that  if  she  did  this, 
Christine  would  think  that  she  was  afraid  to  speak 
to  her.  She  was  still  wavering,  and  undecided  what 
to  do,  when  she  was  waited  upon  by  a  committee 
from  her  class,  and  their  interference  filled  her  with 
humiliation  and  wrath.  She  was  also  much  annoyed 
that  Clare  should  have  spoken  to  her  about  Christine, 
and  thought,  when  the  committee  came  to  her  room, 
that  Clare  must  have  had  something  to  do  with  it. 
Having  learned  to  distrust  herself,  she  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  trust  other  people,  and  because  she  had  lost 
Christine,  imagined  that  Clare  had  deserted  her  too. 

Clare,  who  was  thoroughly  distressed  by  all  this, 
tried  to  make  Christine  relent,  and  accept  the  ap- 
pointment, saying  that  the  misunderstanding  had 
been  going  on  too  long.  "  Clare  dear,"  said  Chris- 
tine, sorrowfully,  "I  wish  that  I  could — if  only  to 
please  you.  But  it  is  true,  as  you  say,  that  —  this 
misunderstanding  has  been  going  on  too  long !  " 

Clare  knew  by  her  face  that  nothing  more  could 
be  done,  and  went  away  thinking,  "  I  am  of  no  use 
to  any  of  my  friends,  I  am  of  no  use  to  myself! 
Question:  why  was  I  born?" 

The  possibility  that  she  might  be  of  use  to  her 
class  never  entered  her  mind  until  the  night  of  the 
Glee  Club  elections,  when  she  was  made  Leader  by 
a  nearly  unanimous  vote.  Then  she  knew  that  at 
last  they  had  made  a  place  for  her  —  little  Clare  — 
in  the  dear  college  world,  and  that  it  was  the  place 
of  all  others  she  would  have  chosen  to  fill. 

"  Ardis,"  she  cried  joyously,  — "  Ardis,  do  you 
know  what  this  means  to  me  ? " 

238 


JUNIOR  USHERING 

But  Ardis  did  not  reply.  She  herself  had  been 
elected  Manager,  and  was  wondering  if  she  could  not 
have  managed  Clare  better,  if  their  positions  had 
been  reversed. 

Several  of  Clare's  friends  were  outside  on  the  steps, 
applauding,  and  it  seemed  that  every  one  had  known 
all  about  it  beforehand;  so  nobody  was  surprised 
except  Clare.  The  Glee  Club  escorted  their  new 
Leader  to  her  home,  and  sang  to  her  all  the  way, 
although  she  herself  could  not  sing,  for  fear  that 
she  should  cry ;  and  when  they  reached  the  Marston, 
the  girls  who  had  been  following  the  club  across 
the  campus,  gathered  around  and  said,  "  We  are 
so  glad,  little  Clare!" 

The  singing  had  never  sounded  so  beautiful  to 
Clare  as  it  did  that  night,  and  she  thought  as  she 
went  to  her  room,  "  They  are  mine  —  my  own,  my 
very  own !  "  Then  she  spent  two  hours  trying  to 
forget  that  Ardis,  too,  had  not  said  she  was  glad,  and 
found  herself  crying,  after  all. 

Christine  Arnold  was  a  quiet  observer  of  every- 
thing that  went  on,  and  pretended  that  she  was  like 
Teufelsdroeck  in  "  Sartor  Resartus."  She  remembered 
that  Carlyle  had  a  gray  cat,  something  like  Datisi 
in  appearance,  and  thought  that  very  likely  Teufels- 
droeck had  one  too.  She  had  determined  not  to 
feel,  and  accordingly  devoted  her  entire  attention  to 
study,  reading  all  the  references  that  were  given  out 
in  class,  and  vanquishing  her  soul  with  the  "  law  of 
diminishing  returns."  She  declined  an  invitation 
to  the  Storey  dance,  and  stayed  at  home  from  the 
Wyndham  Dramatics.  Then  she  changed  her  tactics, 
and  appeared  at  every  festivity  with  a  cordial  smile. 

239 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  To  avoid  seeing  people  is  not  the  way  to  avoid  being 
hurt,"  she  thought.  "  It's  like  being  shot  in  the  back  ! " 
She  occupied  her  spare  time  in  getting  up  a  delight- 
ful "  farewell  meeting  "  for  the  Seniors  of  Phi  Delta 
Kappa.  Theresa  Robinson,  the  head  of  the  Ex- 
ecutive Committee,  was  the  only  Senior  who  could 
know  beforehand  what  the  entertainment  was  to  be. 
They  were  to  have  scenes  from  "  Pippa  Passes," 
which  had  been  suggested  by  Clare's  melody  for 
"  The  year 's  at  the  spring  ;  "  and  Clare  herself  was 
to  be  Pippa,  although  she  insisted  that  she  could 
not  act  at  all.  "  Isabel  will  sing  '  The  year 's  at  the 
spring,'  "  said  Christine,  "  and  you  must  write  some 
music  for  '  Overhead  the  tree-tops  meet/  —  a  little 
lower  down,  you  know,  for  Ardis." 

"  I  know  the  range  of  Ardis's  voice,"  said  Clare, 
delighted,  "  and  I  think  the  song  will  be  better  if  I 
remember  that  she  is  to  sing  it." 

She  worked  over  the  music  until  the  day  before 
the  meeting,  and  then  carried  it  to  Ardis,  hoping 
that  she  would  want  to  try  it  over  immediately,  for 
an  unsung  melody  is  like  a  sensitive  plate  that  has 
not  been  developed. 

Ardis  was  sitting  at  her  desk,  taking  notes  on  the 
"  Areopagitica,"  in  a  savage-looking  blank  book  with 
ink-spattered  covers. 

"  Who  asked  you  to  write  this  music,  Clare  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"Christine,"  said  Clare,  looking  a  little  surprised, 
"  but  of  course  Theresa  told  her  to.  Has  n't  Tess 
said  anything  to  you  about  it?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Ardis,  turning  to  her  work  again, 
"  but  I  don't  think  that  I  care  to  sing  your  music." 

240 


JUNIOR   USHERING 

Clare  could  scarcely  believe  that  she  had  heard  her 
aright. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  that,  Ardis?  Of  course  the 
music  is  n't  much  in  itself,  but  —  it  was  written  for 
you." 

"  I  've  been  looking  up  the  words,"  said  Ardis, 
carelessly,  "  and  find  that  they  have  been  set  to  music 
by  a  man  in  Boston ;  so  I  sent  for  the  song,  and  ex- 
pect it  here  to-night  I'm  sorry  that  you  should 
have  had  the  trouble  of  writing  another,  but  of  course 
you  will  admit  that  professional  work  is  a  little  more 
desirable." 

Clare  took  up  the  poor  little  manuscript,  and  went 
back  to  her  room,  too  surprised  and  hurt  to  say  a 
word. 

"  /  did  n't  offer  to  write  that  music,"  she  thought 
indignantly.  "  They  made  me  —  they  made  me ! 
It 's  unfair  to  humiliate  a  person  who  has  n't  any 
confidence,  to  begin  with  —  it 's  unnecessary.  It 's 
like  ironing  a  book-mark.  It 's  abominable !  " 

She  seized  the  rejected  sheets  of  music,  and  tore 
them  into  small  pieces,  scattering  the  fragments  over 
the  floor ;  then  she  raged  around  her  room  for  half 
an  hour,  calling  herself  names. 

She  had  not  written  her  Milton  abstract  for  the 
next  day,  and  was  obliged  to  do  it  that  evening,  while 
a  brass  band  was  playing  on  the  campus,  and  every- 
body was  out.  Theresa  Robinson  came  in,  flushed 
with  dancing,  and  asked  Clare  if  she  had  finished 
the  song  for  to-morrow.  Clare  pointed  to  the  waste- 
paper  basket,  and  said  that  Ardis  had  declined  to 
sing  it. 

**  That  girl  is  getting  more  insufferable  —  "  began 
16  241 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Theresa,  and  abruptly  left  the  room.  But  in  a  few 
minutes  she  returned,  saying:  "  Ardis  prefers  to  sing 
the  song  that  she  has  selected ;  so  I  told  her  that  we 
could  dispense  with  her  services  more  easily  than  we 
could  with  your  music,  and  asked  Faith  Bentley  to 
sing  it.  Of  course  her  voice  is  not  like  Ardis's,  but 
if  she 's  on  the  Glee  Club  she  can  do  it  well  enough, 
and  she  is  at  least  obliging." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  nobody  will  sing  it  now,"  said 
Clare.  "  There  did  n't  seem  to  be  any  need  for  the 
music,  so  I  tore  it  up." 

"  Tore  it  up  !     Why,  Clare,  how  unlike  you  !  " 

"  Why  is  it  unlike  me?  You  don't  know  what  I'm 
like  at  all." 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  you  were  angry  at  Ardis,  but 
I  think  you  might  have  had  a  little  more  considera- 
tion for  the  society." 

"  I  think  the  society  will  survive." 

"  Could  n't  you  re-write  at  least  a  part  of  it,  so  that 
the  programmes  would  not  be  spoiled?  We  made 
such  a  point  of  this  new  music,  written  by  Pippa  her- 
self for  this  occasion." 

"  I  could  re-write  all  of  it  if  I  chose,"  said  Clare, 
"but  I  don't  intend  to." 

"You  poor  little  thing!  It's  a  shame  that  you 
have  been  treated  so.  But  I  can't  see  that  I  'm  to 
blame,  or  the  society  either,  and  I  was  so  hoping 
that  there  would  be  no  unpleasantness  at  our  fare- 
well meeting." 

"  The  music  was  written  for  Ardis,  and  if  she  won't 
sing  it,  nobody  shall." 

"  Well,  you  must  have  been  badly  treated  to  make 
you  behave  like  this." 

242 


JUNIOR  USHERING 

"  I  'm  not  '  behaving,' "  said  Clare,  indignantly. 
"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  That 's  what  I  mean,"  laughed  Theresa.  "  You  Ve 
stated  my  point  exactly." 

Clare  made  no  concessions  that  night,  but  the  next 
morning  she  was  up  early,  re-copying  the  music. 
She  may  have  understood  how  Dante  felt,  when,  hav- 
ing quarrelled  with  his  friend  Can  Grande  della 
Scala,  he  could  not  show  him  the  last  thirteen  cantos 
of  "  II  Paradiso,"  and  therefore  determined  that 
nobody  else  should  see  them. 

It  took  a  long  time  to  re-write  the  music,  but  at 
noon  Theresa  found  this  note  on  the  bulletin  board : 

DEAR  TESS,  —  I  was  all  wrong,  as  usual.  There  is  nothing 
but  wrongness  in  me.  Faith  has  a  copy  of  the  music  now. 

CLARE. 

The  Sigma,  being  the  older  society,  was  to  hold 
its  farewell  meeting  in  the  reading  room,  and  Phi 
Delta  Kappa  was  ignominiously  banished  to  Music 
Hall.  But  it  turned  out  afterwards  that  Music  Hall 
was  the  very  best  place  for  a  musical  meeting.  Dr. 
Page's  room,  opening  out  of  the  hall,  served  as  a 
dressing-room,  and  the  tiny  window  over  the  platform 
was  just  the  thing  for  Pippa's  bit  of  sky. 

The  little  mill-girl  looked  very  sweet  in  her  simple 
Italian  dress,  with  her  brown  curls  falling  over  her 
shoulders,  and  the  brown  eyes  full  of  earnestness.  It 
was  true,  as  she  had  said,  that  she  could  not  act;  but 
her  great  love  for  the  words  may  have  helped  them 
to  tell  their  story  truly,  for  when  she  knelt  down,  at 
the  last,  beside  her  little  bed,  there  were  tears  in  the 
eyes  of  many  who  saw  her. 

243 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

There  is  a  certain  kind  of  voice  that  invariably  dis- 
tracts the  attention  from  what  it  says,  because  of  a 
sympathetic  quality  that  acts  upon  the  mind  of  the 
listener  like  music,  and  steals  it  away.  The  Juniors 
who  heard  "  Pippa  Passes  "  thought  of  the  deeper 
responsibilities  that  awaited  them  next  year.  The 
Seniors  thought  of  their  college  bell,  and  of  the  ivies 
that  were  rustling  outside  in  the  night.  But  little 
Clare  thought,  "  All  service  ranks  the  same  with 
God  — ...  there  is  no  last  nor  first." 

The  Seniors  were  delighted  with  the  new  music, 
and  said  that  they  valued  it  all  the  more  because  it 
had  been  written  for  them. 

"  But  it  was  n't,"  thought  Clare,  "  it  was  written  for 
Ardis.  Dear  me,  what  a  bad  temper  I've  been  in !  " 

The  days  were  growing  warmer  now ;  the  Seniors 
were  practising  the  Ivy  music  every  night,  and  ex- 
aminations were  drawing  near.  There  had  been  a 
merry  party  on  the  Storey  House  steps  one  after- 
noon, when  the  ushers  assembled  to  make  their 
wands. 

The  Junior-Senior  reception  took  place  in  the 
Gymnasium,  and  the  first  arrivals  were  mystified  by 
finding  three  huge  bowls  of  roses  standing  on  the 
platform  among  the  evergreens  and  palms;  two 
hundred  roses  talking  to  each  other,  and  no  one  who 
understood  their  language  sufficiently  to  ask  where 
they  came  from. 

But  the  secret  was  revealed  before  the  first  dance 
began,  for  silence  was  called  in  the  hall,  and  Ardis 
read  the  few  simple  words  that  had  come  with  the 
flowers :  "  To  the  Class  of  Ninety-five,  with  love  from 
the  Class  of  Ninety-three." 

244 


JUNIOR  USHERING 

The  girls  of  Ninety-five  were  impulsive  as  a  class, 
and  if  many  of  them  did  not  speak  for  a  minute,  and 
turned  away  their  faces  from  the  Seniors  who  were 
with  them,  there  was  no  one  in  the  hall  who  was 
old  enough  or  wise  enough  to  blame  them.  Ardis 
and  the  Vice-President  pulled  off  their  evening 
gloves,  and  distributed  the  long-stemmed  flowers 
among  the  Juniors,  who  applauded  and  sang  by 
turns.  They  always  sang  whenever  there  was  the 
slightest  excuse  for  doing  so,  and  the  other  classes 
said  that  they  sang  oftenest  when  there  was  no  excuse 
at  all ! 

Each  Junior  presented  her  rose  to  the  Senior  whom 
she  had  invited,  but  kept  the  love  that  had  come 
with  it  for  herself. 

The  advent  of  the  crimson  roses  was  particularly 
auspicious  on  this  occasion,  for  Ardis  had  incurred 
the  wrath  of  both  classes  by  refusing  to  take  the 
Senior  President  to  the  reception.  College  etiquette 
demanded  that  she  should  do  so,  and  college  eti- 
quette had  been  most  unpleasantly  defied.  Ardis 
insisted  that  she  had  invited  Maude  Gilbert  long  ago, 
and  that  somebody  else  should  take  Miss  Keith.  Of 
course  the  President  of  Ninety-four  had  made  no  other 
arrangements,  and  one  of  the  Juniors  was  obliged  to 
give  up  her  own  Senior  at  the  last  minute,  and  take 
her  to  the  reception.  Miss  Keith  was  a  most  charm- 
ing girl>  whom  any  one  would  have  liked  to  invite, 
but  she  could  not  help  feeling  a  little  hurt  at  the 
treatment  that  she  had  received.  Ardis  was  in  gen- 
eral disfavor  at  this  time,  having  neglected  her  presi- 
dential duties  for  work  on  the  "  Prism,"  while  trying 
to  exercise  her  presidential  authority  over  the  editors 

245 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

themselves.  She  had  attempted  to  "  run  "  the  Ath- 
letic Association,  but  was  politely  informed  that  her 
services  were  not  required,  whereupon  the  name  of 
Leonora  Kent,  Vice-President  of  the  association,  was 
struck  off  the  ushers'  list.  She  never  rewarded  a  ser- 
vice, nor  forgot  a  slight,  and  if  she  had  been  an  Em- 
press instead  of  a  Junior  President,  her  subjects 
would  have  had  reason  to  tremble  for  their  lives ! 

Clare,  who  loved  her  best,  saw  in  all  these  strange 
things  merely  symptoms  of  a  mournful  unrest  that 
was  trying  to  forget  itself  in  work.  Ardis  had  been 
particularly  considerate  since  the  episode  of  the  song, 
and  Clare  had  comforted  herself  by  thinking  that  she 
did  not  mean  to  be  unkind ;  but  her  own  day  of 
reckoning  was  to  come. 

When  the  ushers  went  down  to  have  their  places 
assigned  in  the  Opera  House,  Clare  was  put  up  in 
the  highest  and  most  undesirable  part  of  the  gallery, 
where  it  was  necessary  to  go  up  and  down  stairs,  to 
seat  the  people.  It  was  undeniably  the  worst  place 
in  the  house,  and  Clare  knew  that  somebody  must 
have  it;  but  she  had  never  been  strong  enough  to 
climb  many  stairs,  and  was  very  likely  to  take  cold  if 
she  became  physically  exhausted. 

"  It  is  n't  that  I  deserve  a  better  place,"  she 
thought,  "for  I  don't;  and  it's  doing  as  much  for 
my  class  to  usher  up  here  as  it  would  be  down- 
stairs —  but  I  wish  I  had  a  different  kind  of  back !  " 

She  stood  the  first  night  of  Dramatics  very  well, 
for  people  came  early,  and  another  usher  had  time 
to  help  her;  but  on  Saturday  night  there  was  a 
greater  crowd.  Fathers  and  mothers  blundered  into 
the  wrong  places,  and  could  not  be  made  to  under- 

246 


JUNIOR  USHERING 

stand  why  they  should  move.  Aunts  and  cousins 
had  omitted  to  provide  themselves  with  programmes, 
and  wanted  messages  taken  to  friends  downstairs. 
Clare  felt  as  if  she  had  walked  miles  over  those 
ladder-like  steps,  and  before  all  of  the  people  were 
seated,  she  suddenly  became  very  faint. 

Christine  Arnold  was  in  one  of  the  balcony  boxes 
with  Marjorie  Drew,  and  had  been  furtively  keeping 
one  eye  upon  Clare.  In  a  minute  she  was  around  at 
the  gallery  entrance,  and  had  taken  Clare  out  upon 
one  of  the  iron  platforms  of  the  fire-escape.  The 
fresh  air  revived  her  immediately;  but  while  they 
were  there,  the  lights  in  the  house  went  down,  and 
the  curtain  rose  on  the  first  act. 

"  I  must  go  back,"  said  Clare,  in  alarm.  "  Thank 
you  so  much,  Christine.  Oh  !  it  is  so  humiliating,  so 
absolutely  degrading,  not  to  be  strong  —  to  be  found 
lacking  in  everything  that  is  asked  of  one  in  this 
world !  Let  me  go,  dear.  You  see  there  is  no  one 
to  tell  those  two  old  ladies  where  they  are  to  sit." 

Christine  intercepted  her,  and  Clare  found  herself 
walking  down  the  balcony  stairs  instead  of  up  to  the 
gallery  entrance.  "You  are  well  enough  to  go  home 
alone,"  said  Christine,  "  and  the  college  is  only  two 
minutes  from  here.  Give  me  your  wand  ;  I  will  take 
your  place  to-night ;  "  and  before  Clare  could  raise 
any  objections,  she  was  gone. 

Clare  knew  that  she  had  taken  cold,  and  having 
reached  the  end  of  her  strength,  was  only  too  glad  to 
go  home.  She  began  to  realize  that  she  had  made  a 
mistake  in  accepting  this  position  in  the  gallery  at 
all ;  but  it  would  have  been  unheard  of  to  ask  any 
one  to  exchange  with  her,  and  to  give  up  ushering 

247 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

for  those  two  nights  meant  giving  it  up  for  the  whole 
of  Commencement  There  was  Baccalaureate  to 
come,  and  Ivy  Day,  and  the  final  graduation  exer- 
cises on  Tuesday,  with  a  collation  at  the  campus 
houses  afterwards.  It  was  scarcely  wise  to  risk  her 
health  for  things  like  these,  —  but  she  was  very 
young! 

Christine  took  her  place  on  the  top  steps,  and 
stood  there,  tall  and  beautiful,  like  an  avenging  angel 
in  a  Donovan  gown.  She  was  so  angry  with  Ardis 
that  the  color  had  come  to  her  cheeks  and  the  light 
to  her  eyes,  and  she  heard  one  of  the  alumnae  ask 
an  undergraduate,  "  Why  is  the  most  beautiful  of 
the  ushers  up  here  on  the  gallery  steps?" 

The  next  day  Clare  was  sick  in  bed,  and  two  days 
later  her  mother  was  sent  for.  The  cold  had  de- 
veloped into  bronchitis,  and  all  thought  of  ushering 
or  of  Harvard  Class  Day  was  at  an  end.  It  was  a 
dismal  time  to  be  sick,  for  nearly  every  one  was  too 
busy  to  come  and  see  her,  and  the  sound  of  the  Glee 
Club  singing  on  the  campus  drove  her  wild.  It 
would  have  been  so  pleasant  to  wander  around  with 
them,  and  be  pointed  out  to  visitors  as  the  new 
Leader  for  next  year.  Clare  was  not  unreasonably 
egotistical,  but  she  was  human. 

Her  mother  had  stopped  sewing  on  the  Class  Day 
gown,  and  it  hung  limp  and  forsaken  in  the  closet. 
Then  came  a  night  when  she  struggled  and  struggled 
for  breath,  and  wished  that  "  this  time  might  be  the 
last ;  "  for  it  was  an  old  enemy  that  had  overtaken 
her,  and  she  was  very  tired. 

But  one  morning  the  pain  was  gone,  and  she  lay 
with  a  white  rose  on  her  pillow,  looking  at  the  square 

248 


JUNIOR  USHERING 

of  sunshine  that  quivered  on  the  floor,  and  leaped 
sideways  across  the  bed.  Her  mother  sat  sewing  by 
the  window. 

"  How  cowardly  it  was  in  me  to  wish  that  this  time 
might  be  the  last,"  she  thought.  "  This  is  a  beauti- 
ful old  world !  " 

Christine  had  been  obliged  to  go  to  Class  Day 
without  her,  but  she  had  written  Clare  all  about  it, 
and  a  beautiful  box  of  roses  had  come  from  Mrs. 
Arnold  and  Stephen.  Ruth  had  sent  Clare's  ticket 
of  admission  to  the  tree  exercises,  and  a  tiny  spray 
of  the  flowers  that  Stephen  and  Mr.  Packard  had 
pulled  down  for  their  friends. 

"  But  it  is  only  the  well  people  who  can  be  young," 
thought  Clare.  "  Oh,  I  hate  to  be  weak,  I  hate  to 
be  weak !  There  is  no  place  for  the  weak  people 
in  this  world,  and  I,  who  wanted  to  do  so  much,  can 
only  be  an  '  almost,'  like  poor  Quasimodo,  or,  at 
best,  a  '  might  have  been.'  " 

"  Clare,"  said  her  mother,  as  if  she  had  been  read- 
ing her  thoughts,  "  I  have  something  ever  so  nice  to 
tell  you  —  a  secret.  Guess  what  it  is." 

"  I  can't,"  said  Clare,  smiling.  "  Is  it  that  you  love 
me?  But  that's  no  secret,  you  know."  She  and  her 
mother  were  so  near  of  an  age  that  Clare  invariably 
alluded  to  her  own  childhood  as  "  that  time  when  we 
were  little." 

"  Yes,  that 's  it,"  said  Mrs.  Deland,  "  but  there 's 
more  to  it  too.  You  know  Miss  Taylor's  on  Elm 
Street  where  Ruth  and  Christine  are  going  to  board 
next  year?" 

"Yes,  that's  where  Ardis  used  to  live.  It's  a 
homelike  little  place.  And  is  n't  it  fine  that  Dr. 

249 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Burritt  has  got  back  some  of  his  money,  so  that  Ruth 
won't  have  to  work  any  more,  —  except  on  lessons 
of  course.     My  dear  old  Ruth !     I  'm  so  glad  that 
she  let  Christine  write  me  about  it." 

"There  is  another  room  at  Miss  Taylor's,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  Deland,  —  "  a  little  single  room  with  two 
windows  and  lots  of  sunshine.  And  who  do  you 
suppose  is  going  to  have  that?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Clare,  who  was  beginning  to 
forget  how  it  feels  to  be  an  "  almost "  in  the  world. 
"Tell  me." 

"  Clare  Edmonds  Deland." 

"  Mamma,  you  have  n't  engaged  it  without  asking 
me!" 

"  I  certainly  have,  dear,  and  Christine  and  Ruth 
agree  with  me  that  it  is  best.  I  have  felt  for  some 

(time  that  the  nervous  tension  of  these  campus  houses 
is  too  great  for  my  little  girl,  although  it  may  not  be 
bad  for  even  moderately  strong  people.  Of  course 
the  campus  life  is  a  very  important  part  of  your 
I  college  experience,  but  you  have  already  had  two 
years  of  it,  and  that  is  enough  !  You  have  gradually 
allowed  yourself  to  become  excited  over  trifles, 
and  to  worry  over  things  that  are  not  worries  at  all- 
So,  if  you  want  to  be  a  Senior,  and  Leader  of 
the  Glee  Club,  it  will  be  necessary  to  make  some 
change." 

"  But  to  leave  the  campus,  mamma !  Why,  you 
don't  know  what  it  means  to  us  all." 

"  I  think  I  know  what  it  means  to  your  mothers," 
said  Mrs.  Deland,  with  a  smile.  "Your  letters  are 
few  and  far  between,  and  you  never  bring  home  any 
of  the  handkerchiefs  that  you  took  away.  If  you 

250 


JUNIOR  USHERING 

would  exercise  a  little  more  judgment  in  the  other 
people's  handkerchiefs  that  you  select,  I  would  not 
complain,  —  but  just  look  at  this  one  !  " 

"  Miss  Taylor  has  a  pug  dog  with  a  tucked 
stomach,"  said  Clare,  dismally.  "  And  I  don't  like 
to  think  of  leaving  the  campus,  because  that  will 
mean  leaving  Ardis  too." 

"  I  think  it  is  just  as  well  for  you  to  be  separated 
from  Ardis  for  a  while.  And  if  she  is  to  be  Manager 
of  the  Glee  Club  next  year,  there  is  no  doubt  but 
that  you  will  see  enough  of  her !  " 

Mrs.  Deland  had  wisely  refrained  from  expressing 
her  entire  opinion  upon  the  subject  of  Ardis,  although 
it  might  easily  be  inferred  that  she  had  one. 

She  went  out  that  afternoon,  and  when  she  re- 
turned, brought  Clare  a  note  from  the  bulletin 
board. 

"  I  always  like  to  walk  through  the  college  when- 
ever I  go  anywhere,"  she  said.  "  Buildings  have  a 
personality  of  their  own,  and  this  one  is  so  young 
and  enthusiastic  that  I  feel  like  dancing  as  soon  as  I 
open  the  door.  It  is  not  so  bad  to  meet  a  ghost,  if  it 
is  the  ghost  of  a  happiness  !  And  I  always  pretend 
that  I  am  you,  going  to  recitations.  To-day  I  looked 
for  an  imaginary  note  on  the  bulletin  board,  and 
behold,  it  materialized  before —  Why,  darling, 
what 's  the  matter  ?  " 

Clare  had  read  the  note,  and  laid  it  down  suddenly, 
with  a  new  look  on  her  face. 

"  The  note  itself  is  not  so  much,"  she  said,  "  but 
somehow  it  makes  me  think  of  all  I  want  to  do  — 
and  to  be." 

It  was  from  the  Leader  of  the  Glee  Club. 
251 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

MY  DEAR  LITTLE  CLARE,  —  I  have  been  so  hurried  that 
I  didn't  come  to  say  good-bye,  but  it  may  have  been 
partly  because  I  could  not  bear  it. 

I  like  to  think  that  you  are  to  take  my  place.  You  will 
enjoy  the  work  more  than  anything  or  everything  else  in 
college,  because  there  is  something  about  it,  beyond  or 
above  —  I  don't  know  what  it  is.  But  don't  let  them  forget 
me,  Clare,  don't  let  them  forget  me  ! 

Your  friend,  CELIA  O.  HOWARD. 

Clare  kept  the  little  note  warm  in  her  hand  all  day, 
and  knew  that  her  Senior  year  had  begun. 


252 


CHAPTER  XVI 

SENIOR  RESPONSIBILITIES 

THE  Seniors  were  assembled  in  front  of  the  Hillard 
House,  waiting  for  their  class  group  to  be  taken,  and 
the  photographer  had  just  said :  "  Will  that  last 
young  lady  on  the  right,  in  the  green  skirt,  move  a 
little  this  way,  and  the  one  in  the  pink  waist  set 
down?" 

All  the  under-class  girls  who  were  pointing  their 
little  Kodaks  at  the  group,  waited  expectantly  for  the 
critical  moment  to  arrive  ;  the  photographer  withdrew 
his  red  face  from  under  the  focussing  cloth,  said, 
"  Now,  don't  nobody  smile ! "  and  was  about  to 
squeeze  the  rubber  mystery  at  the  end  of  the  long 
tube,  when  two  girls  dashed  out  of  Lincoln  Hall  in 
their  chemistry  aprons,  and  tore  breathlessly  over  the 
lawn. 

"Hurry  up,  Freda!"  "Where  have  you  been, 
Mildred?"  "Oh,  you  lunatics!"  came  in  jeering 
comments  from  various  parts  of  the  picture,  and  the 
funereal  expression  that  had  pervaded  the  group, 
vanished  in  an  instant. 

"  If  the  two  new  young  ladies  would  kindly  remove 
their  pinafores,"  said  the  artist,  deprecatingly,  and 
the  blue  checked  aprons  were  immediately  pulled  off 
by  officious  friends  in  the  foreground. 

253 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"Three  cheers  for  the  President  of  Ninety-five!" 
called  Kathleen  Carey,  as  the  long-suffering  man 
raised  the  tube  in  his  hand. 

"  Rah,  rah,  rah,  Ruth!  "  came  the  unanimous  reply ; 
and  as  the  photographer  again  waved  the  tube  in 
desperation,  Kathleen  added,  "  Burritt !  " 

But  the  picture  was  taken  at  last;  and  as  the  class 
group  scattered,  to  make  room  for  the  Juniors, 
Christine  dashed  over  to  College  Hall  after  her  note- 
book, calling  out  to  ask  Kathleen  if  she  was  not  going 
on  the  Geology  trip. 

"  I  want  to  stay  and  be  taken  in  the  Freshman 
picture,"  shouted  Kathleen.  "You  can  tell  him  I'm 
ill !  " 

But  three  minutes  later,  when  Christine  emerged 
from  the  street  entrance  of  the  Music  Building, 
Kathleen  was  already  there  upon  the  steps,  singing 
"  Way  down  upon  the  Suwanee  River,"  to  an  admiring 
audience. 

A  wagonette  was  waiting  at  the  door,  and  the  whole 
class  scrambled  into  it  with  much  agility  and  laughter, 
while  Professor  Saunders  sat  at  one  end,  waving  a  blue 
cotton  umbrella.  Heads  popped  out  of  several  win- 
dows in  the  Music  Building,  and  the  composite  pan- 
demonium became  audibly  less. 

"  We  ought  to  have  a  horn,"  said  Grace  Reade,  as 
the  drag  started.  "Oh,  Professor  Saunders,  can't  we 
stop  somewhere  and  get  a  horn?  " 

"  My  dear  young  ladies,"  answered  the  professor, 
beaming  upon  them  from  behind  his  blue  glasses. 
"  this  excursion  takes  the  place  of  one  of  your  regular 
recitations." 

But  he  enjoyed  the  fun  immensely,  for  all  that,  and 
254 


SENIOR   RESPONSIBILITIES 

stopped  the  wagonette  several  times  on  their  way  out 
of  town,  to  investigate  the  formation  of  certain  apple- 
trees. 

The  object  of  the  excursion  was  to  trace  old  river- 
beds, and  Professor  Saunders  stood  up  now  and  then 
to  point  out  some  especially  fertile  pasture  that  had 
once  been  the  bottom  of  a  lake. 

"  You  can  generally  tell  where  water  has  been,  by 
observing  where  the  townspeople  locate  their  ceme- 
teries," he  said.  "  Rocky  formations  are  never  con- 
venient to  dig  in." 

The  wagonette  left  the  road  now,  and  bumped 
cheerfully  over  the  corn  and  grain  stubble  to  a  high 
bank  overlooking  the  river. 

"  Out,  every  one  of  you  !  "  said  the  professor,  clos- 
ing his  umbrella.  "  A  few  thousand  years  ago  the 
Waverly  River  flowed  into  the  Connecticut  at  the 
point  where  we  are  now  standing.  If  you  will  follow 
me  down  this  bank  —  " 

It  was  rather  a  steep  bank,  and  several  of  the  stu- 
dents descended  more  speedily  than  they  had  planned ; 
others  were  obliged  to  sit  down  and  slide,  with  a  hail- 
storm of  little  stones  rattling  after  them.  But  the 
charge  of  the  blue  umbrella  inspired  fortitude  in  the 
hearts  of  all,  and  even  the  most  timorous  "  took  "  the 
bank  without  flinching. 

The  professor  walked  slowly  along,  thrusting  a 
stick  into  the  yellow  earth  of  the  embankment,  until 
he  stopped,  triumphant,  and  picked  out  a  little  knot 
of  plastered  leaves  and  twigs. 

"  This  was  the  ancient  bed  of  the  river,"  he  said, 
"  and  we  shall  never  know  by  what  upheaval  it  was 
forced  to  change  its  course." 

255 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Perhaps  it  reformed !  "  whispered  Grace ;  and 
Kathleen  added,  "  Probably  its  father  knew  something 
about  it" 

"  Is  n't  it  strange,  Professor  Saunders,"  said  Leo- 
nora Kent,  "  that  we  can  find  the  childhood  of  a 
river  in  one  place,  and  its  manhood  in  another,  and 
yet  they  're  both  going  on  at  the  same  time." 

"  Yes ;  but  the  manhood  of  the  river  can  never 
return  to  its  childhood,"  said  the  professor,  "  and  in 
that  it  is  not  so  unlike  ourselves.  Young  ladies," 
turning  to  a  knot  of  girls  who  seemed  to  be  fishing 
for  something  in  the  water,  "  have  you  found  any- 
thing of  interest  among  those  logs?" 

"  Clay !  "  was  the  jubilant  answer,  as  Kathleen 
raised  two  sticky  hands ;  and  Rachel  Winter  prepared 
to  roll  up  a  huge  ball  of  the  clinging  substance  in  her 
handkerchief. 

"  Might  I  ask  what  you  are  going  to  do  with  it?  " 
inquired  the  professor,  doubtfully;  and  Kathleen 
answered,  "  Make  a  hair-pin  box." 

"  I  shall  model  my  room-mate's  head,"  said  Rachel, 
glancing  towards  Salome,  who  was  busily  taking  notes 
on  what  the  professor  had  said. 

"  How  clever  in  him  to  fathom  the  dissimulation  of 
that  river,  after  it 's  been  out  of  its  old  bed  so  many 
years  !  "  said  Christine.  "  It  may  try  to  look  inno- 
cent, and  say  that  it  was  never  there,  but  you  have 
only  to  rake  out  a  few  of  these  old  leaves  and  sticks, 
and  say  —  " 

"  Pardon  me,  but  you  Ve  dropped  something,"  con- 
tinued Kathleen.  "  How  do  you  account  for  these, 
old  boy,  if  you  Ve  never  slept  in  that  bed  ?  Oh, 
you  're  a  sly  one  !  " 

256 


SENIOR  RESPONSIBILITIES 

The  wagonette  crossed  the  ferry  on  its  way  home, 
and  several  of  the  girls  jumped  out  to  stand  by  the 
railing,  or  trail  their  fingers  through  the  sunset  in  the 
water.  Under  the  boat  were  pink  ripples  and  pink 
clouds,  but  near  the  banks  was  a  gentle  green 
twilight,  where  the  reflection  of  growing  things 
plunged  face  downwards  into  the  water. 

"  Do  you  remember  how  proud  we  used  to  think 
we  'd  be  when  we  were  Seniors  ?  "  asked  Grace,  "  and 
now  we  don't  think  about  being  Seniors  at  all,  but 
only  of  what  we  have  to  do  !  " 

"  When  we  were  Juniors,  I  think  we  felt  the  impor- 
tance of  our  position,"  said  Christine,  "  and  when  we 
were  Sophomores  there  was  no  living  with  us.  But 
now  —  " 

"We  are  altogether  desirable.  Is  that  what  you 
were  going  to  say?"  asked  Grace. 

"No;  I  was  only  thinking —  Where  do  you  sup- 
pose we  had  better  spend  our  last  Mountain  Day?" 

"  Stop  it,  sir !  "  shouted  Kathleen,  indignantly,  seiz- 
ing her  by  the  arm.  "  You  stop  it  now.  '  Last  Moun- 
tain Day '  indeed  !  What  do  you  mean  by  mention- 
ing the  word  'last'  in  my  presence?" 

Grace's  eyes  had  filled  suddenly  with  tears,  but  she 
laughed  through  them,  as  Ninety-five  was  wont  to  do, 
and  said,  "  What  a  comfort  it  is  to  remember  some- 
times that  we  can't  do  any  more  than  we  can !  " 

"  It  is  a  comfort,"  said  Christine,  "  because  we  are 
always  blaming  ourselves  for  not  being  able  to  march 
serenely  past  our  own  possibilities." 

"  I  Ve  taken  what  seemed  to  be  the  best  road  at 
every  turn,"  said  Grace,  "and  yet  I've  so  often 
landed  in  an  alley  or  a  back  yard.  But  that  decision 
17  257 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

for  what  I  thought  was  the  best  was  all  that  could 
possibly  lie  in  my  power.  And  yet  what  have  I  to 
show  for  it?" 

"  You  have  us,"  said  Kathleen,  cheerfully.  "  We 
show  up  on  all  occasions." 

"  Yes,  thank  Heaven  !  "  said  Grace.  "  The  girls  of 
Ninety-five  will  always  be  reason  enough  to  each 
other  for  having  come  to  college,  even  if  we  can't 
often  remember  why  xy  would  n't  have  been  z,  if  it 
had  n't  been  not-zfi." 

"  I  turned  that  syllogism  round  in  the  exam,  and 
made  it  into  an  A,"  said  Kathleen.  "  I  find  that  you 
can  make  anything  into  an  A,  if  you  cut  it  over  care- 
fully and  let  out  the  under-arm  seams." 

"  Was  it  right?  "  asked  both  girls,  eagerly. 

"  No !  " 

When  the  wagonette  reached  home,  the  supper 
bells  were  ringing  over  the  campus,  and  the  baked 
apples  on  Miss  Taylor's  table  were  smoking  hot. 
Baked  apples  are  not  bad  after  an  afternoon's  drive ; 
neither  are  gingerbread  and  hot  rolls. 

"  Oh,  where  did  you  find  those  autumn  leaves?" 
asked  Clare,  as  Christine  tossed  the  tangible  results 
of  her  excursion  on  the  hall  table. 

"  They  '  held  us  up '  on  the  way  home.  Just  one 
big,  beautiful  branch — the  first  of  the  season.  Oh, 
I  do  feel  so  disreputably  dusty  and  wind-blown  and 
young.  '  Hey,  Robin,  jolly  Robin,  tell  me  how  your 
lady  does.'  " 

"  Why,  Christine,  I  did  n't  know  that  you  could 
sing,"  laughed  Clare,  as  they  went  to  supper.  "  I  '11 
take  you  down  to  rehearsal  to-night." 

"  Do  you  suppose  they  'd  put  me  out  if  you  did?  " 
258 


SENIOR   RESPONSIBILITIES 

"  You  'd  be  much  more  likely  to  put  them  out. 
Oh  dear,  I  wonder  if  that  little  Gladys  Campbell 
will  remember  to  bring  back  my  copy  of  the  Waltz 
Song !  " 

"  Gladys  Campbell  is  interested  in  you,  Miss 
Arnold,"  said  Miss  Sabin,  the  young  Greek  assist- 
ant, who  sat  at  one  end  of  the  table.  "  She  asked 
me  the  other  day  how  old  you  were." 

"  You  can  tell  her  that  I  'm  just  twenty-one,"  said 
Christine,  holding  her  roll  in  mid-air.  "  My  parents 
can  no  longer  claim  my  earnings." 

"  Oh,  Gladys  ought  not  to  say  such  things,"  said 
Clare,  looking  disturbed.  "  People  will  think  that 
she  is  fresh." 

A  laugh  went  round  the  table  at  this,  and  Ruth 
said :  "  Clare  has  a  feeling  of  responsibility  about 
Gladys,  because  she  is  Edith  Campbell's  cousin,  and 
the  youngest  Freshman  on  the  club.  Isn't  that  it, 
Clare?" 

"  Those  are  two  reasons  why  I  ought  to  be  inter- 
ested in  her,"  said  Clare,  "  but  I  care  about  her 
mostly,  because  she  is  a  dear,  loving  child." 

"  Miss  Deland  thinks  that  every  young  person  is  a 
bundle  of  promises,"  said  one  of  the  Juniors,  "  and 
that  the  faith  of  our  friends  is  what  enables  us  to  fulfil 
them." 

"  Or  break  them  entirely,"  said  Christine.  "  But  I 
don't  think  that  we  ought  to  be  too  dependent  upon 
outside  approbation,  or  let  ourselves  be  too  often 
influenced  by  what  people  expect ;  because  if  we  did 
that  all  the  time,  we  should  soon  cease  to  be  facts 
and  become  mere  inferences." 

"And  then  if  two  people  happened  to  hold  ex- 
2S9 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

actly  opposite  opinions  of  our  character,  we  should 
cease  to  exist  altogether,"  said  Clare.  "  May  I  be 
excused,  Miss  Sabin?" 

She  did  not  take  the  conventional  path  to  the 
college,  but  crossed  over  to  the  Methodist  church- 
yard, and  went  through  the  "  hole  in  the  fence." 
This  hole  opened  on  the  campus,  and  the  displaced 
slats  were  nailed  back  at  intervals;  but  the  hole 
always  re-appeared  again  in  due  season,  looking 
none  the  worse  for  its  enforced  absence.  A  group  of 
Ninety-eight  girls  were  playing  "  snap  the  whip  "  on 
one  of  the  tennis  courts,  and  a  light  breeze  made  all 
the  hammocks  look  as  if  ghosts  were  swinging  in 
them.  The  apples  were  stacked  in  gold  and  crimson 
piles  under  the  trees,  and  one  belated  ripe  one 
dropped  down  with  a  cheerful  thud  at  Clare's  feet. 
She  picked  it  up  and  laughed,  for  it  seemed  exactly 
as  if  the  apple  had  done  it  to  startle  her. 

When  she  reached  the  front  campus,  the  Glee 
Club  girls  were  wandering  towards  the  Music  Build- 
ing in  knots  of  two  and  three.  Gladys  Campbell 
was  sitting  on  Lincoln  Hall  steps  with  May  Church- 
ill, one  of  the  Glee  Club  Juniors,  and  Clare  looked  at 
them  uneasily  as  she  passed,  for  May  Churchill  was 
the  very  last  girl  that  she  would  have  chosen  as  a 
friend  for  little  Gladys.  But  "  little  "  Gladys,  as  Clare 
loved  to  call  her,  was  really  not  little  at  all.  She  was 
tall,  and  beautiful  to  look  at,  and  one  could  tell  at  a 
glance  just  what  kind  of  a  mother  she  had  at  home, 
what  books  and  pictures  she  had  seen,  and  what 
music  she  had  heard.  One  knew  that  all  had  been 
right  with  the  child. 

"  I  wonder  if  they  know  it 's  nearly  six-thirty," 
260 


SENIOR   RESPONSIBILITIES 

Clare  thought.     "  I  '11  wait  a  little,  and  see  if  they 
don't  come." 

Ardis  had  not  returned  yet,  and  Clare  had  been 
obliged  to  re-organize  the  Glee  Club  alone.  The  re- 
sponsibility was  great,  because  there  was  so  much 
besides  musical  ability  to  be  considered  in  the  selec- 
tion of  new  members.  Strength  of  character  and 
high  principles  counted  here,  as  in  everything  else, 
and  Clare  knew  that  the  girls  who  were  faithful  to 
their  studies  would  be  faithful  to  their  club. 

"  Let  me  see,"  she  said,  as  she  joined  the  group  in 
front  of  the  Music  Building,  "we're  all  here  now, 
except  —  " 

"  I  '11  go  and  get  them,"  said  Isabel  Bovey,  indig- 
nantly;  "  it  's  terribly  mean  of  them  not  to  come." 

"  Thank  you,  Isabel,"  said  Clare.  "  No,  I  '11  go 
myself.  They  '11  understand  better  that  way.  Thank 
you,  dear." 

She  walked  down  to  Lincoln  Hall  steps,  and  said 
brightly,  "  Oh,  May,  won't  you  and  Gladys  please 
come  to  rehearsal?  The  Glee  Club  can't  get  along 
without  you  at  all,  and  neither  can  I." 

"Aren't  you  ashamed  to  forget  rehearsal?  "  asked 
May,  turning  to  Gladys,  "  and  you  a  Freshman ! 
They  '11  bounce  you  from  the  club." 

"No,  they  won't,"  said  Clare,  taking  Gladys  by 
the  hand.  "  We  need  her  on  the  club  !  " 

"  It  was  you  who  forgot  to  go,  Miss  Churchill,"  said 
Gladys,  shyly ;  "  you  "re  a  Junior,  and  you  ought  to 
be  ashamed." 

"  I  think  you  ought  both  to  be  ashamed  to  forget 
me,  when  I  'm  always  thinking  about  you,"  said  Clare, 
laughing.  "  If  you  're  not  careful,  my  feelings  will  be 

261 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

very  much  hurt.  Now  do  come,  or  the  girls  will 
think  we  Ve  deserted  them."  She  slipped  her  other 
hand  into  May's,  and  the  three  went  back  to  Music 
Hall  together. 

Clare  knew  that  May  had  kept  Gladys  away  from  re- 
hearsal on  purpose,  but  chose  to  ignore  that  fact, 
rather  than  let  May  think  for  an  instant  that  she  was 
distrusted.  She  had  her  own  theories  with  regard  to 
this  Junior,  who  was  so  pretty  and  so  talented  that  it 
made  all  the  rest  of  her  seem  like  such  a  mistake. 
In  the  first  place,  May  rarely,  if  ever,  knew  her 
lessons,  and  in  a  woman's  college  one  does  not  re- 
spect the  people  who  do  not  study.  In  addition  to 
this,  she  smoked  cigarettes,  and  drank  a  great  deal 
of  champagne,  —  two  undesirable  facts  which  had 
caused  her  to  be  instinctively  shunned  by  the  refined 
element  in  the  college.  The  upper-class  girls  did 
not  see  fit  to  engage  in  any  violent  discussion  with 
regard  to  the  propriety  of  smoking,  for  women. 
They  understood  that  it  is  not  a  matter  of  conviction, 
but  of  repulsion,  and  simply  left  May  alone. 

Some  of  her  friends  would  have  stood  by  her  for 
better  or  worse,  —  as  college  girls  know  how  to  do, — 
if  she  herself  had  not  proved  inconstant  and  unrelia- 
ble. But,  as  it  was,  she  preferred  to  have  a  large 
following  of  under-class  girls,  who  were  either  too 
young  or  too  ignorant  to  understand  her  lack  of 
moral  fibre  —  to  entertain  them  lavishly,  and  offer 
them  everything  in  her  possession,  from  the  cigar- 
ettes to  the  latest  and  most  approved  methods  of 
evading  one's  duties. 

Clare  had  evolved  a  comparatively  new  plan  with 
regard  to  the  management  of  May,  and  was  waiting 

262 


SENIOR  RESPONSIBILITIES 

hopefully  to  see  if  it  would  succeed.  It  was  a  very 
simple  way,  after  all ;  she  was  going  to  trust  her. 

As  she  led  the  singing  that  night,  she  felt  that  the 
wide  meaning  of  it  all  was  broadening  out  before  her, 
like  a  road  that  ends  in  a  sweeping  beach  of  sand. 
Beyond  that  was  the  ocean,  and  beyond  the  ocean  was 
—  God.  And  yet  people  would  not  see  that  there 
might  be  a  sacred  side  to  this  musical  work,  this  per- 
fect union  of  the  Leader  in  her  girls,  and  of  the  girls 
in  the  Leader  that  they  had  chosen  for  themselves. 

Clare  had  decided  that  they  should  sing  better 
than  any  Glee  Club  had  ever  sung !  It  was  not  a 
"  Glee  Club,"  after  all,  but  an  unusually  fine  choral 
society  of  trained  voices,  and  why  should  they  not 
sing  the  very  best  music,  in  the  way  that  such  music 
should  be  sung? 

"  I  will  hitch  my  wagon  to  a  star,"  she  thought, 
"and  then  if — I  fail,  I  shall  at  least  have  had  the 
little  path  of  starlight  to  ride  in !  " 

But  every  time  that  she  heard  those  fresh  young 
voices,  with  all  their  possibilities  of  laughter  and  of 
tears,  she  knew  that  the  little  path  of  starlight  must 
lead  up  to  its  star  at  last. 

Rehearsal  went  well  that  night,  and  after  the 
Assistant  Leader  had  put  away  the  music  and  re- 
ceived her  instructions  for  the  next  few  days,  Clare 
went  into  the  old  organ-room,  where  she  and  Ardis 
had  first  practised  together. 

She  had  not  been  into  that  room  since  the  day  of 
the  Glee  Club  elections  in  June,  and  there  were  many 
things  to  tell  the  organ  that  it  had  not  heard  before. 
She  made  shepherds'  pipes  and  their  echoes  upon 
the  different  banks  of  keys,  pretended  that  she  was  a 

263 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

melody  going  on  a  journey  through  the  world,  and 
ended,  as  she  always  did,  with  "  The  Lost  Chord." 
"  It  may  be  that  death's  bright  angel "  —  the  Vox 
Humana  sounded  very  human  that  night,  "  will  speak 
in  that  chord  again.  And  it  may  be  that  only  in 
Heaven  — "  Clare  jumped  down  from  the  organ- 
bench  and  threw  open  the  door  in  wild  delight,  cry- 
ing, "  Ardis,  Ardis  !  " 

In  a  minute  there  was  a  warm,  sweet  arm  around 
her  neck,  and  her  cheek  was  pressed  against  the  cool 
heads  of  the  little  violets  that  Ardis  wore  in  her 
dress.  At  first  she  was  too  happy  to  do  anything 
but  sit  still,  while  Ardis  kissed  her  forehead  and  her 
hair,  and  even  her  hands,  with  the  dusty  remnants  of 
"  shepherds'  pipes  "  between  the  fingers.  Then  she 
said,  "  When  did  you  come,  and  why  did  n't  you  tell 
me  you  were  coming,  and  why  did  n't  you  come 
before?" 

"  I  came  here  straight  from  the  train,"  replied 
Ardis,  "  remembering  that  it  was  rehearsal  night, 
and  the  first  thing  that  I  heard  was  'The  Lost 
Chord.'  Why  did  n't  you  write  to  me  this  summer, 
Clare  ?  I  've  missed  your  letters." 

It  never  occurred  to  her  to  connect  Clare's  silence 
with  the  Junior  ushering  trouble  in  the  spring,  any 
more  than  it  occurred  to  Clare  that  she  might  think 
so.  For  Clare  understood  that  Ardis  had  not  in- 
tended to  make  her  ill,  and  Ardis  even  felt  ag- 
grieved that  her  delicately  intended  slight  should 
have  had  so  tragic  an  ending. 

"  Well,  there  was  something  that  I  wanted  to  tell 
you,"  said  Clare,  "and  didn't  like  to  write  it;  so  I 
thought  that  I'd  rather  wait — " 

264 


"Good  heavens,  little  one's,  you're  not  engaged?" 

"  No,  no ;  one  in  the  family  is  quite  enough.  But 
speaking  of  engagements,  did  you  get  Louise  Burritt's 
wedding  cards  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  I  've  met  the  man  too.  What  was  it 
that  you  wanted  to  wait  and  tell  me?" 

"  About  my  not  going  back  to  the  Marston  this 
year.  I  'm  up  at  Miss  Taylor's  with  Christine  and 
Ruth." 

"And  left  me  all  alone?     Oh,  Clare !  " 

Ardis-  looked  very  much  hurt,  although  Clare  ex- 
plained over  and  over  again  her  reasons  for  leaving 
the  campus.  "  It  was  only  so  that  I  could  be  more 
quiet,"  she  said. 

Ardis  went  to  the  window,  and  looked  out  at  the 
twinkling  lights  of  the  Storey  House  opposite,  and  at 
the  long,  mysterious  shadows  that  made  the  concrete 
walks  take  unfamiliar  turns.  Then  she  tried  to  speak 
and  stopped,  and  Clare  saw  that  the  slow,  unaccus- 
tomed tears  had  gathered  in  her  eyes. 

"  '  From  him  that  hath  not,'  "  she  began.  "There, 
don't  be  alarmed  at  my  quoting  Scripture,  Clare. 
I  've  been  car-sick,  I  believe.  Whom  have  you 
taken  on  the  Glee  Club?  Any  one  that  I  know?" 

Clare  told  her  all  the  Glee  Club  news,  and  walked 
down  with  her  to  the  Marston,  when  the  janitor  came 
to  shut  up  the  Music  Building. 

"  You  will  miss  that  old  elm-tree  of  yours,"  said 
Ardis,  as  they  said  "  Good-night "  on  the  steps. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  think  that  I  could  get  along  without 
the  elm,  if  I  had  you.  It's  rather  hard  —  not  having 
you,  Ardis.  I  don't  believe  you  understand  just  how 
hard  it  is." 

265 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Two  memories  flashed  through  the  mind  of  the 
older  girl  as  Clare  said  this,  —  one,  of  a  song  that  was 
not  sung  by  the  person  for  whom  it  was  written ;  and 
another,  of  a  weary  little  usher  alone  on  the  topmost 
gallery  steps.  But  Clare  had  forgotten  ! 

"  We  will  see  each  other  in  choir  and  Glee  Club," 
Ardis  said. 

"  We  sha'n't  see  each  other  in  choir  any  more, 
because  they  banished  all  the  Seniors  yesterday,  be- 
fore rehearsal.  But  we  can  go  to  chapel  together. 
And  won't  it  seem  funny  to  be  sitting  with  our  class 
again !  " 

"  Being  put  out  of  the  choir  seems  like  the  first 
step  towards  being  put  out  of  the  college,  does  n't 
it?"  said  Ardis.  "After  all  — I'm  fond  of  this 
place." 

"  We  have  one  more  of  these  dear,  happy  years 
before  us,"  said  Clare.  "  We  must  help  each  other 
to  make  the  most  of  it !  " 

"  Good-night !  "  called  the  matron  cheerfully,  from 
her  window;  and  both  girls  laughed,  as  Clare 
wrapped  her  cape  around  her  and  started  for  home. 

The  social  side  of  college  life  is  composed  of 
incidents  which  have  absolutely  no  connection  with 
each  other;  and  while  the  centre  of  the  circle  is  the 
intellectual  life,  which  grows  steadily,  beautifully,  and 
well,  the  tangents  may  be  anything,  from  blue 
prints  to  sociological  reforms. 

"  I  think  that  the  many-sidedness  of  the  college 
girl  may  account  in  a  large  measure  for  her  happi- 
ness," said  Professor  Burton,  the  next  day,  as  he 
came  out  of  Lincoln  Hall  with  his  friend  Dr.  Corn- 
stock.  Professor  Burton  was  taking  his  mid-day 

266 


SENIOR   RESPONSIBILITIES 

meal  at  Miss  Taylor's  that  year,  and  Dr.  Comstock 
often  dropped  in  to  walk  up  with  him.  This  morn- 
ing they  had  been  discussing  germs,  and,  inciden- 
tally, the  subject  of  the  college  woman.  * 

"  Then  you  don't  think  that  this  many-sidedness, 
as  you  call  it,  tends  to  make  them  indifferent  to  the 
old-fashioned  womanly  interests  that — " 

His  sentence  was  never  finished,  for  at  that  precise 
moment  he  and  his  friend  were  run  into  from  be- 
hind by  a  baby  carriage  coming  down  the  Hillard 
House  walk  at  full  speed.  The  carriage  was  pur- 
sued by  half  a  dozen  students  in  riotous  spirits,  who 
had  made  up  their  minds  that  the  baby  must  be 
captured  at  all  costs.  They  had  been  down  town 
foraging,  and  as  they  waved  various  ungainly  parcels 
in  the  air  while  running,  it  was  not  strange  that 
the  little  nursemaid  should  have  thought  her  last 
hour  had  come. 

"  Whoa  there,  hold  on,  you  '11  capsize  your  pas- 
senger !  "  said  the  doctor,  laying  a  detaining  hand 
on  the  little  vehicle.  "  Don't  you  know  better  than 
to  bounce  a  year-old  baby  over  the  ground  at  that 
rate?" 

"  Them  ladies  wanted  to  steal  her !  "  said  the 
child,  looking  around  apprehensively  at  her  pursuers, 
who  were  drawing  near. 

"  No,  they  don't.  You  must  n't  be  a  lunatic,  you 
know,"  said  Professor  Burton,  reassuringly.  "  We 
have  n't  the  proper  appliances  for  dissecting  babies 
in  our  laboratory." 

The  girls  came  up,  laughing  and  breathless,  and 
after  much  persuasion  bargained  with  the  little  maid 
to  let  them  have  the  baby  on  the  Storey  House  steps 

267 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

for  ten  minutes,  in  exchange  for  two  bags  of  peanuts 
and  one  of  Mrs.  Flannagan's  chocolate  cakes.  The 
girls  who  were  going  home  from  noon  recitation 
stopped  and  gathered  around  this  serene  atom  of 
humanity,  who  seemed  quite  unconscious  of  the 
fact  that  she  was  the  temporary  property  of  Harland 
College.  She  did  not  realize  what  it  meant  to  be 
legally  "  hired  out"  to  a  starving  and  babyless  com- 
munity, which  had  been  willing  to  exchange  good 
peanuts  for  her  services. 

Christine  Arnold  sat  down  with  the  baby  on  the 
Storey  House  steps,  and  the  other  girls  regarded 
them  both  in  awed  and  worshipful  silence. 

"  I  did  n't  know  that  you  cared  so  much  for 
children,  Miss  Arnold,"  said  a  little  Freshman,  who 
was  quite  absorbed  in  counting  the  three  white  but- 
tons on  the  baby's  shoe. 

"  All  women  do,"  answered  Christine,  sternly.  She 
was  wishing  that  every  one  would  go  away,  so  that 
she  could  cuddle  the  baby  as  much  as  she  wanted  to. 

"  Oh,  but  I  've  known  some  women  that  have  n't," 
said  the  Freshman,  timidly,  "  and  I  can't  understand 
it,  either." 

"  I  said  —  all  women,'  re-emphasized  Christine ; 
"  there  may  be  females  who  do  not !  " 

The  baby  must  have  found  out  and  understood 
some  side  of  Christine  that  other  people  did  not  often 
see,  for  when  she  was  ceremoniously  returned  to  her 
carriage  and  fastened  in,  with  an  absurd  knitted 
strap,  she  put  out  two  little  hands  and  cried  to  come 
back. 

"  Higher  education  does  not  seem  to  have  inter- 
fered with  their  maternal  instinct,  at  all  events,"  said 

268 


SENIOR   RESPONSIBILITIES 

Dr.  Comstock,  laughing,  as  he  and  Professor  Burton 
walked  on. 

"  Good  heavens,  no !  I  have  decided,  from  my 
own  observation,  that  the  college  life  tends  to  in- 
crease womanliness  in  women  rather  than  to  dimin- 
ish it.  Anything  that  teaches  a  girl  to  distinguish 
between  the  realities  and  artificialities  of  life  cannot 
fail  to  make  her  understand  what,  for  her,  must  be 
the  greatest  reality  of  all !  I  think  that  the  college 
girl  is  always  more  womanly  at  the  end  of  her  four 
years'  course  than  she  was  at  the  beginning — for 
the  simple  reason  that  there  is  more  of  her  to  be 
a  woman  with." 

"Would  you  care  to  marry  one  of  them?"  asked 
Dr.  Comstock,  thoughtfully. 

"  Well,  I  'm  not  particularly  anxious  to  '  appear 
out  bride ;  '  but  statistics  have  shown  that  a  man 
who  spends  his  life  in  studying  one  kind  of  bacteria 
is  sure  to  perish  by  it  in  the  end." 

"  How  would  the  young  ladies  like  to  hear  you 
refer  to  them  as  bacteria?"  asked  Dr.  Comstock,  as 
he  and  Professor  Burton  parted  company. 

"  They  did  n't  hear  me,"  answered  the  professor, 
pulling  open  Miss  Taylor's  screen-door. 

"  I  did,"  said  Christine  Arnold,  coming  out  of  the 
parlor,  satchel  in  hand,  "  but  I  won't  tell  anybody." 

"  I  don't  believe  that  you  did,"  said  the  professor, 
"  because  I  have  a  low  and  gentle  voice  —  an  excel- 
lent thing  in  man.  But  no  matter  what  you  may 
have  overheard,  you  may  rest  assured  that  it  is 
nothing  to  what  I  could  say  if  I  chose." 

"  We  all  understand  that,"  said  Christine,  gravely, 
"  especially  since  that  day  when  you  informed  the 

269 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

assembled  table  that  you  had  to  pay  insect-collectors 
more  for  catching  wasps  because  of  the  '  personal 
element '  in  it." 

"  It  is  the  trivial  things  like  that  which  live  after 
a  man  is  gone,"  said  the  professor,  mournfully. 
"  The  really  great  facts  of  his  life  pass  by  unnoticed." 

"  Speaking  of  passing,  was  there  a  car  in  sight 
when  you  came  in?" 

"  There  was,  but  I  think  it  was  n't  going  your 
way,  although,  of  course,  it  is  not  for  me  to  say 
which  way  you  intended  to  go." 

"  I  'm  bound  for  Worcester  —  to  spend  Sunday 
with  my  friend  Marjorie  Drew.  The  fact  that  I  'm 
an  intimate  friend  of  the  Senior  President  and  of  the 
Glee  Club  Leader  convinces  me  that  I  need  to 
accumulate  strength  for  the  coming  year.  Have 
you  any  message  for  Miss  Drew?" 

"  Give  her  my  love,"  said  the  professor,  imper- 
turbably.  "  Are  n't  you  going  to  have  any  dinner?  " 

"  I  have  a  luncheon  to  eat  on  the  train,"  explained 
Christine,  laughing.  "  Here 's  my  car.  Good-bye ;  " 
and  off  she  went,  leaving  Professor  Burton  to  draw  a 
mental  contrast  between  a  certain  Sophomore  with  a 
green  '95  on  her  Gym  suit  and  her  hair  in  two  long 
curly  braids,  and  the  beautiful  young  woman  whom 
he  had  seen  on  the  Storey  House  steps  that  morn- 
ing, with  a  little  child  in  her  arms. 

"  Wonder  how  she  got  home  before  I  did,"  he 
meditated.  "  Oh,  I  know.  Hole  in  the  fence." 

Worcester  was  about  two  hours  from  South  Har- 
land,  and  when  Christine  had  finished  her  luncheon, 
she  took  out  her  James's  Psychology  and  learned 
the  lesson  for  Monday. 

270 


SENIOR   RESPONSIBILITIES 

Marjorie  met  her  at  the  station,  and  bore  her  off 
triumphantly  to  the  little  rooms  where  she  and 
Harriet  Keith  kept  house.  Marjorie  was  teaching  in 
a  college  preparatory  school,  and  Harriet  had  a 
very  good  position  on  a  newspaper. 

"  You  can't  imagine  what  fun  we  have,"  said  Mar- 
jorie, as  she  helped  Christine  out  of  her  wraps. 
"We  cook  our  own  breakfasts  and  suppers,  —  that 
is,  make  coffee  in  the  morning,  and  warm  up  a  cold 
bean  at  night;  but  we  are  very  swell  at  noon,  and 
have  dinner  tickets  at  '  Mrs.  Hooper's  Ever-Ready 
Luncheon ! ' ' 

"  And  does  Miss  Keith  still  have  theatre  tickets 
galore,  and  all  the  latest  books  to  review?" 

"  Yes,  in  certain  directions,  Harriet  has  what  might 
be  termed  a  '  snap ; '  but  she  has  to  pay  for  it  by  los- 
ing most  of  her  sleep.  Sitting  up  nights,  in  an  office 
full  of  tobacco  smoke,  is  not  quite  so  amusing  as 
interviewing  an  Irish  wedding  by  day,  and  being  pre- 
sented with  a  piece  of  jelly-cake  wrapped  up  in  a 
fragment  of  your  own  newspaper !  " 

Harriet  herself  came  in  before  long,  and  welcomed 
Christine  with  enthusiasm. 

"  I  have  tickets  for  '  Samson  and  Delilah '  to- 
night," she  said,  "  and  I  'm  going  to  try  to  get  off 
to-morrow  afternoon,  so  that  we  can  go  to  some 
matinee  together.  Now  do  tell  us  all  the  college 
news.  We  don't  even  know  the  class  elections." 

"  Except  Ruth  Burritt's,"  said  Marjorie.  "  Who  is 
your  Ivy  Orator,  Christine?" 

"  She 's  not  elected  yet,  but  there 's  not  much  doubt 
that  Edith  Stand ish  will  get  it.  We  have  a  class 
meeting  to-morrow." 

271 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  How  is  my  poor  little  Elsie  getting  on  without 
Ruth  this  year?" 

"  Oh,  she  's  busy  with  her  '  Prism  '  work  and  her 
tutoring.  She  takes  her  dinner  at  our  house  now,  so 
we  have  very  festive  times  together." 

"  And  is  Miss  Deland  doing  well  with  the  Glee 
Club?"  asked  Harriet. 

"  Yes,  finely !  But  I  really  think  she  cares  too 
much  about  it.  When  there  has  been  a  poor  re- 
hearsal, she  comes  home  and  goes  to  bed." 

"  Do  you  still  sport  that  emaciated  cat  of  yours?  " 
asked  Harriet,  disrespectfully.  She  was  one  of  those 
unexplainable,  inexcusable  people  who  don't  like 
them ! 

"  No,  poor  Datisi !  Miss  Taylor  has  an  abominable, 
loose-skinned  pug-dog,  with  a  bulging  eye,  and 
accordingly  Datisi  had  to  go  back  to  his  mother's 
people.  I  took  him  there  myself,  wishing  to  witness 
the  maternal  joy  on  his  arrival;  but  education  had 
created  a  barrier  between  parent  and  child.  Datisi 
was  greeted  with  a  fierce  triangular  spit,  and  fled 
under  the  barn,  with  a  tail  of  increased  proportions. 
I  have  n't  seen  him  since." 

"  Have  there  been  any  brilliant  recitations  among 
the  Seniors  this  year  ?  "  asked  Marjorie,  changing  the 
subject.  "  I  shall  never  forget  that  time  in  Ethics, 
last  Spring,  when  Professor  Harding  asked  Nathalie 
Rollins  what  she  meant  by  free-will,  and  Nathalie 
answered,  '  I  think  that  every  woman  has  a  right  to 
live  and  be  loved ' !  " 

"  Nathalie  was  the  person  who  thought  that  it  was 
never  right  to  tell  a  lie,"  said  Harriet,  "  not  even  to 
save  a  dear  friend  from  being  murdered." 

272 


SENIOR   RESPONSIBILITIES 

"  '  Not  even  if  it  were  the  lesser  of  two  evils,' " 
quoted  Marjorie.  "  I  became  suspicious  of  Nathalie 
from  that  moment,  and  have  not  believed  a  word  that 
she  said  since." 

"  Of  course  there  are  certain  circumstances  under 
which  it  is  highly  commendable  to  lie,"  said  Christine ; 
"  for  instance,  I  think  that  every  woman  is  expected, 
to  say  '  No,'  when  questioned  about  any  man." 

"  Unless  it 's  the  man  himself  who  happens  to  ques- 
tion her,"  said  Harriet,  thoughtfully;  and  Marjorie 
gave  a  wail  of  despair. 

"  There  is  a  certain  young  reporter,"  she  said,  "  and 
Harriet  is  only  twenty-one  —  not  that  there  is  any 
connection  between  the  two  facts,  however." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Harriet.  "  But  seriously, 
Marjorie,  college  girls  do  not  lie  as  a  class.  We  Ve 
heard  people  speak  of  that  more  than  once." 

"  Miss  Carlisle  says  that  untruthfulness  is  a  habit, 
like  everything  else,"  quoted  Christine,  "  and  that 
the  average  college  girl  does  n't  lie,  because  she  is 
used  to  thinking  and  searching  for  the  truth.  Four 
years'  training  in  accuracy  makes  truthfulness  the 
first  instinct,  at  all  events,  and  — " 

"  I  'm  sorry  to  break  in  upon  this  discussion,"  said 
Marjorie,  rising,  "  but,  Harriet,  did  you  remember  to 
bring  home  the  bananas?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  the  cheese  for  the  rarebit?" 

"  Yes.     Don't  you  want  me  to  make  the  toast?  " 

"  No,  you  're  tired ;  stay  here  and  talk  to  my  com- 
pany while  I  get  supper.  To-morrow  morning  we  '11 
take  Christine  over  to  see  Hester,  won't  we?  Poor 
Hester,  she  is  n't  as  happy  as  we  are." 

273 


18 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Is  that  Hester  Morris,  who  was  in  your  class  ?  " 
asked  Christine.  "  I  heard  that  she  was  down  here 
teaching,  or  something." 

"  She 's  lecturing  on  stuffed  beasts,  in  the  museum 
where  they  reside,"  said  Harriet,  "  and  when  she  was 
at  college  she  specialized  on  Political  Economy  and 
French." 

"  That  illustrates  the  versatility  of  the  trained 
mind,"  replied  Christine,  gravely.  "  Oh,  by  the  way, 
girls,  I  have  a  pot  of  Dundee  jam  for  you  in  my 
bag." 

The  little  visit  with  Marjorie  and  Harriet  came  to 
an  end  all  too  soon,  and  Sunday  afternoon  found 
Christine  on  the  train  bound  for  South  Harland.  As 
the  cars  swept  along  beside  the  river  at  dusk,  she 
watched  eagerly  for  the  first  glimpses  of  Mt.  Waverly 
and  Mt.  Gwynn.  They  had  become  very  dear  to  her 
in  the  three  years  that  she  had  known  them,  and  it 
was  a  comfort  to  remember,  every  night  when  she 
closed  her  eyes,  that  the  watchers  over  Harland  were 
watching  still !  She  imagined  that  vespers  must  be 
nearly  over  now,  and  wondered  what  hymn  they  were 
singing.  Then  she  thought  of  Ardis,  and  was  think- 
ing of  her  still  when  the  train  drew  into  the  station. 

Ruth  and  several  of  the  others  were  there  to  meet 
her,  and,  as  soon  as  they  had  boarded  an  electric  car, 
announced  to  Christine  that  she  had  been  elected  Ivy 
Orator  by  a  large  majority  at  class-meeting  the  day 
before.  This  was  the  greatest  honor  of  Commence- 
ment, and  at  first  Christine  feared  that  she  was  the 
subject  of  a  jest;  but  after  she  had  received  the  con- 
gratulations of  the  younger  Faculty  at  Miss  Taylor's, 
and  of  about  twenty  students  who  dropped  in  during 

274 


SENIOR   RESPONSIBILITIES 

the  evening,  she  began  to  realize  that  greatness  had, 
at  last,  been  thrust  upon  her. 

"I  telegraphed  your  family  yesterday,"  said  Ruth, 
"  and  here  's  an  answer  that  came  from  your  father 
last  night  I  thought  it  was  safer  to  open  it." 

The  telegram  read,  — 

"  Magnificent.     Will  be  there  to  hear  you  spout. 

ARNOLD." 

On  the  following  Wednesday  night  the  S.  F.  D.  C. 
gave  a  farewell  dinner  to  their  President — and  dis- 
banded ! 


275 


CHAPTER   XVII 

"IT   CAME   UPON  THE   MIDNIGHT   CLEAR" 

OCTOBER  came,  and  the  dusk  was  reddened  by  the 
falling  leaves.  Then  it  was  November,  —  a  time  when 
the  sunshine  that  is  in  one  has  all  that  it  wants  to 
do. 

Once  it  rained  steadily  for  four  days,  and  the  col- 
lege dressing-rooms  were  pervaded  by  an  atmosphere 
of  damp  and  resentful  rubber,  while  long  streams  of 
water  from  the  umbrella-tips  meandered  across  the 
floor.  At  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  day  everybody 
was  discouraged,  and  Clare  walked  down  to  chapel 
with  the  firm  conviction  that  she  had  not  a  friend  in 
the  world.  Her  spirits  were  always  affected  by  the 
weather,  and  when  the  trees  wept,  she  felt  like  shut- 
ting herself  up  in  her  room  and  weeping  too.  Her 
state  of  mind  was  not  improved  by  rinding  a  note  on 
the  bulletin  board  from  Margretta  Nolenski,  the  As- 
sistant Leader  of  the  Glee  Club,  saying  that  she  had 
been  called  home  the  night  before  by  the  sudden 
illness  of  her  mother. 

"  It  will  be  doubtful  whether  I  come  back  this 
term,"  she  wrote,  "  and  then  perhaps  I  sha'n't  want 
to  come  at  all.  Oh,  Clare !  The  music  is  all  in 
order,  and  I  left  that  second-alto  part  that  you 
wanted,  inside  your  score  of  the  *  Meistersinger.'  " 

276 


"IT   CAME   UPON   THE   MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

Clare  was  desperately  sorry  for  Margretta,  and  yet 
she  felt  conscious,  at  the  same  time,  of  a  vague,  un- 
reasoning rage  at  any  one  who  would  be  so  pathetic 
on  a  wet  day.  There  seemed  to  be  nothing  in  the 
atmosphere  to  fall  back  upon. 

Ardis  came  through  the  corridor  at  that  minute, 
and  Clare  told  her  about  Margretta,  adding:  "I 
suppose  that  I  ought  to  appoint  a  temporary  Assist- 
ant, but  the  girls  are  all  so  busy  —  I  hate  to  ask 
them." 

"  Come  up  to  chapel  and  talk  it  over,"  said  Ardis. 
"  Let 's  see :  there  's  Belle  Bovey,  —  but  she 's  Junior 
Councillor,  and  on  the  Executive  of  Phi  Delta  Kap, 
and  Secretary  of  the  Biological  Society.  Kate  Der- 
vish would  be  too  difficult.  No,  I  '11  tell  you  what  — 
I  '11  do  it  myself.  It  would  n't  be  much  more  work 
in  addition  to  the  management,  and  it  will  be  easier 
for  you  to  have  some  one  that  you  're  used  to." 

"  Oh,  Ardis,  will  you  really? "  asked  Clare, 
delighted.  "  If  it  won't  be  too  hard  —  only  till  Mar- 
gretta comes  back?  There  isn't  so  very  much  to  do, 
you  know,  and  it  would  be  lovely  for  us  to  work 
together." 

"  I  shall  consider  myself  duly  appointed  Assistant 
Leader  until  Margretta  comes  back,"  said  Ardis, 
gravely.  "That  condenses  the  responsibility,  and 
makes  things  simpler  all  round." 

"  And  will  you  come  up  this  afternoon,  and  hear 
a  beautiful  plan  that  I  've  been  wanting  to  consult  you 
about  for  some  time?  " 

Ardis  said  that  she  would,  and  when  the  Seniors 
filed  out  after  chapel,  Clare  was  so  happy  that  she 
quite  forgot  to  be  alarmed,  as  she  generally  was,  at 

277 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

the  size  and  dignity  of  the  Freshman  class.  She  had 
not  yet  become  accustomed  to  walking  solemnly  down 
that  long  middle  aisle,  with  rows  upon  rows  of  strange 
faces  before  her,  and  a  feeling  of  insignificance  about 
her  own  knees. 

She  hoped  that  Ardis  would  come  soon  after 
dinner,  and  hurried  through  her  studying  so  that 
they  might  have  time  for  a  good  long  talk.  But 
just  as  she  had  finished  her  twentieth  page  of  Bosan- 
quet's  "  ^Esthetics,"  Ruth  came  in  with  her  fancy- 
work,  saying  that  she  and  Christine  were  too  cross  to 
study  any  more.  They  were  going  to  make  candy, 
and  tell  funny  stories,  and  have  as  good  a  time 
as  they  possibly  could,  while  the  weather  was  so 
limp. 

There  was  a  cheerful  rattle  of  pans  in  the  hall,  and 
Christine  came  in  with  "  Plato  and  Platonism  "  over 
her  arm,  and  a  bar  of  chocolate  in  one  hand.  She 
threw  down  the  pans,  placed  the  bar  of  chocolate  very 
carefully  in  the  "  Plato  "  for  a  book-mark,  and  went 
downstairs  after  butter.  When  she  returned,  she 
found  her  two  friends  engaged  in  what  appeared  to 
be  an  altercation. 

"Ruth  thinks  that  I'm  a  Pantheist,"  said  Clare, 
resentfully,  "  and  I  know  that  I  'm  not,  because  Pan- 
theism attributes  actual  divinity  to  everything  in 
nature,  and  I  never  thought  that  anything  less  than 
the  human  soul  could  be  divine,  although  it  does 
seem  sometimes  as  if  music  —  " 

"  Music  is  caused  by  the  motion  of  material  things," 
interrupted  Christine,  with  a  flourish  of  the  butter- 
knife. 

"  Don't  you  suppose  I  know  that,  silly?  But  music 
comes  nearer  to  suggesting  its  divine  meaning  than 

278 


"IT  CAME   UPON  THE   MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

other  materials  do,  and  that's  why  there  is  so  much 
music  in  the  world." 

"  Too  fat  an  a  priori  to  get  through  an  ordinary 
door  !  Turn  it  round  sideways,  or  pitch  it  overboard, 
and  bring  in  a  good  practical  reason." 

"Certainly.  The  universe  is  built  according  to 
certain  ratios,  measurements,  and  numbers ;  and 
music  is  the  speech  of  numbers.  Everything  that 
grows  sings,  and  has  a  note  of  its  own." 

"  Yes,"  said  Christine,  "/have;  and  so  has  Ruth." 

"  Clare  meant  the  things  that  grow  out  of  doors," 
explained  Ruth,  reproachfully. 

"  Well,  I  grow  out  of  doors  some  of  the  time. 
You  can't  expect  me  to  stay  in  the  house  all  day. 
You  're  like  the  man  who  told  his  clerk  that  if  he 
wanted  to  raise  a  mustache,  he  'd  have  to  do  it  out 
of  office  hours." 

"  I  was  going  to  say,"  continued  Clare,  after  stop- 
ping to  "  land  "  Christine  with  a  sofa-pillow,  "  that 
when  the  petals  of  a  flower  are  written  in  regular 
intervals,  it  makes  of  the  flower  itself  a  melody.  For 
instance,  every  pansy  has  a  little  peal  of  five  bells, 
while  a  daisy  often  contains  the  whole  chromatic 
scale." 

"  Nevertheless1,"  repeated  Ruth,  "  I  do  think  that 
you  are  a  Pantheist." 

"  I  'm  not  a  Pantheist,"  said  Clare,  indignantly. 
"  You  're  a  Pantheist  yourself!  " 

"  Children,  children !  "  said  Christine,  severely. 
"  Ruth,  you  must  not  call  Clare  a  Pantheist,  because 
I  know  for  myself  that  she  is  not  one ;  and,  Clare,  you 
must  not  call  Ruth  a  Pantheist,  for  the  reason  that  she 
happens  to  be  a  straight  descendant  from  Heraclitus 

279 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

—  especially  when  she  clears  up  my  top  bureau- 
drawer.  Her  motto  Lc,  'Everything  passeth  away; 
nothing  remaineth ! ' ' 

"  Don't  mention  philosophy,"  said  Clare.  "  I  can't 
understand  the  Plato  for  to-morrow  at  all." 

"  I  don't  exactly  see  how  he  can  think  abstractions 
are  real,"  said  Christine.  "  Why,  just  suppose  that 
you  should  meet  one !  What  in  the  world  would 
you  do?  I  think  that  I  should  say  '  gyt  naebbe  gae 
geleafan,'  out  of  my  Anglo-Saxon  Reader,  and  then 
it  would  go  away." 

"Things  can  be  real  without  being  tangible," 
objected  Ruth.  "  A  thing  does  n't  need  to  have  two 
legs  and  two  arms  in  order  to  be  real." 

"  No,"  said  Christine,  thoughtfully.  "  Consider 
the  hen." 

"  I  suppose  you  meant  that  for  a  joke  —  about 
meeting  an  abstraction ;  but  your  jokes  are  often  so 
complicated  that  one  cannot  disentangle  the  point  at 
all." 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Christine,  "  you  can't  expect  the 
same  person  to  provide  both  the  joke  and  the  brains 
to  appreciate  it !  " 

Ruth  was  trying  to  think  of  something  annihilating 
to  say  in  return,  when  there  was  a  loud  knock  at 
the  door,  and  two  waterproofed  figures  rushed  into 
the  room,  dragging  their  umbrellas  over  the  floor. 

"  Den  of  knaves  and  conspirators  !  "  said  Kathleen, 
breathlessly.  "  I  smelled  it  from  away  over  behind 
the  Episcopal  Church — in  front  of  the  Wyndham." 

"  Sit  down,  sit  down ! "  said  Christine,  carrying 
off  the  umbrellas  to  drip  in  the  bathtub. 

"  It  is  nice  to  see  you  up  here  again,  Grace,"  said 
280 


"IT  CAME   UPON   THE   MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

Clare,  removing  her  friend's  gossamer.    "  The '  Prism ' 
has  all  that  there  is  of  you  nowadays." 

"I  say,  isn't  it  done?"  asked  Kathleen,  peering 
into  the  simmering  brown  mass,  which  Ruth  was 
slowly  manipulating  with  a  spoon. 

"No,  go  away,  Kaddy;  you'll  upset  it.  Look 
over  the  banisters,  and  see  who  it  was  that  just  came 
in  —  that 's  a  dear." 

"  That 's  a  deep-laid  plot,"  said  Kathleen,  know- 
ingly, "  but  I  'm  no  chicken.  You  can't  persuade 
me  that  any  one  else  has  a  far-sighted  enough  smell 
to  have  spotted  that  P.  F.  already.  Oh,  you  sly  old 
dog,  you !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  Freda  Hastings  ap- 
peared in  the  doorway.  Everybody  became  more 
hilarious  now,  for  who  could  help  forgetting  to  be 
blue  when  there  were  six  of  them,  and  they  all  be- 
longed to  the  class  of  Ninety-five  ! 

A  bird  flew  up  against  the  window  and  darted 
away  again,  shaking  the  gray  drops  from  his  gray 
wings. 

"  Poor  little  fellow !  "  said  Ruth,  "  I  think  it  fright- 
ened him  to  see  you  so  close  to  the  window,  Clare. 
Move  away,  and  see  if  he  won't  come  back." 

"  No,  he  knows  me  —  he  has  been  here  before," 
said  Clare.  "  I  like  to  think  that  he  is  a  wandering 
spirit,  and  has  some  message  to  communicate  when 
I  am  in  the  right  mood  to  receive  it." 

"  Perhaps  he  is  really  a  spirit,"  said  Freda.  "  Some 
of  the  Asiatic  Indians  believe  that  the  spirits  of  their 
relatives  come  back  to  the  earth  in  the  form  of  snakes, 
and  why  not  as  birds  ?  " 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Christine,  "  what  a  splendid 
chance  to  get  even  with  your  ancestors !  " 

281 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

"  I  'd  like  to  catch  the  snake  that  contains  whoever 
gave  me  such  a  bad  temper,"  said  Clare. 

"  What  would  you  do  with  him  ?  "  asked  Christine. 

"  What  could  one  do  to  really  embarrass  a  snake  ! 
I  think  that  I  would  paint  mine  in  alternate  stripes  of 
pink  and  green,  and  then  leave  him  around  where  he 
could  hear  what  other  reptiles  said  about  him.  And 
then  I  would  give  him  all  the  things  to  eat  that  he 
did  not  love." 

"They  like  toads,"  said  Freda,  scientifically. 

"  Well,  then,  everything  that  was  not  a  toad  he 
should  eat;  and  when  dying  of  repletion  he  would 
regret  that  he  had  left  me  all  his  bad  qualities,  and 
sob  out,  '  Better  to  have  bequeathed  them  to  a  hos- 
pital or  a  charity  kindergarten  —  to  any  one  rather 
than  to  you  !'" 

"  Edward  Bellamy  says,"  observed  Ruth,  seriously, 
"  that  '  the  lives  of  the  unborn  are  in  our  hands ;  as  we 
deal  with  them,  so  may  God  deal  with  us.'  Now,  it 
seems  to  me  that  if  this  is  true,  it  must  work  both 
ways,  and  the  people  who  are  dead  are  just  as 
responsible  for  our  failings." 

"  Very  likely  they  are,"  said  Christine,  "  and  in 
that  case  our  ancestors  are  being  what  Bellamy  would 
call  '  dealt  with  '  now.  I  feel  sorry  for  some  of  mine." 

"  In  faith,  so  do  I,"  said  Kathleen,  "  and  it  would  n't 
be  fair  to  make  any  one  ancestor  responsible  for  the 
whole  of  me.  I'd  have  to  be  divided  up  between 
them.  —  Ruth,  why  did  n't  you  tell  me  the  butter  was 
on  the  window-sill  before  I  leaned  back  here?  " 

The  front  door  slammed  again,  and  somebody 
came  upstairs. 

"  Herein !  "  called  Clare,  before  the  knock  came, 
282 


"IT  CAME   UPON   THE   MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

for  she  had  recognized  the  step,  although  the  others 
did  not. 

"  Why,  if  it  is  n't  our  good  friend  Epicurus,"  said 
Kathleen,  "  and  he  has  on  his  new  blue  and  yellow 
changeable  silk  gossamer.  Come  in,  Epicurus,  and 
have  some  P.  F.,  for  we  've  all  got  to  die  some  day." 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  can't  stop  for  P.  F.  this  afternoon," 
said  Ardis,  smiling.  "  I  came  up  to  see  Clare  on 
business  and  by  special  appointment." 

"  You  can  take  some  P.  F.  and  your  appointment 
into  our  room,  Clare,"  said  Christine,  "  seeing  as 
we  've  appropriated  yours." 

"  Thank  you,  I  was  intending  to.  Now,  about  the 
business,  Ardis,"  she  said,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone. 
"  It  is  n't  business  yet,  but  it 's  got  to  be  business 
before  it 's  over,  and  I  want  your  advice  and  en- 
couragement. What  do  you  think  of  giving  a  con- 
cert, a  nice  big  one,  in  December,  for  the  benefit  of 
the  children  at  the  College  Settlements?  " 

"  I  think  it  would  be  a  most  insane  and  unbusiness- 
like proceeding,"  said  Ardis,  in  astonishment.  "  What 
put  that  into  your  head?  " 

"  Playing  for  the  H.  A.  C.  W.  the  other  night.  It 
occurred  to  me  that  it  was  doing  very  little  for  them 
only  to  play  hymns,  and  I  wondered  if,  being  the 
Leader  of  the  Glee  Club,  I  could  n't  help  them  a  little 
more." 

"  So  you  thought  of  turning  the  Glee  Club  into  a 
second  '  Harland  Association  for  Christian  Work,' 
did  you?  I  would  n't  do  that  if  I  were  you  ;  because 
you  know  the  original  object  of  the  club  was  to  sing, 
and  not  to  overcast  undergarments  or  scallop  babies' 
petticoats." 

283 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

"You  are  confusing  the  H.  A.  C.  W.  with  the 
Needlework  Guild,  I  think,"  said  Clare,  "and  you 
have  entirely  misunderstood  my  plan  with  regard  to 
the  Glee  Club.  We  all  know  that  the  primary 
object  of  our  club  is  to  represent  the  best  musical 
work  of  the  college ;  but  we  also  know  that  from  a 
financial  point  of  view  we  are  the  most  important 
organization  here.  And  as  long  as  we  can  make 
money  so  easily,  it  seems  a  pity  not  to  employ  our 
musical  powers  for  some  charitable  ends." 

"  But  do  you  realize  that  if  we  give  a  concert  in 
December,  we  shall  not  be  able  to  fill  the  house 
again  this  year?  Our  annual  winter-term  concert 
has  become  traditional,  and,  being  the  manager,  I  do 
not  care  to  have  it  turn  out  a  financial  failure." 

"  I  think  that  we  could  fill  the  chapel  twice,"  said 
Clare.  "  Of  course  the  size  of  the  audience  that  we 
have  at  the  Easter  concert  will  depend  upon  the  way 
that  the  girls  sing  at  the  Christmas  one,  and  if  they 
sing  well  —  Oh,  Ardis,  they  sing  divinely  already ! 
You  know  that  they  do." 

"  You  are  terribly  unpractical,  Clare,"  said  Ardis, 
impatiently.  "  Who  ever  heard  of  getting  up  a  big 
concert  out  of  hand  like  this?  In  the  first  place,  the 
girls  won't  be  ready,  and  in  the  second,  it  will  cost 
a  tremendous  sum." 

"  No,  it  won't."  said  Clare,  eagerly.  "I  Ve  thought 
all  that  out  myself.  Programmes  will  be  five  dollars, 
tickets  a  dollar  and  a  half,  and  holly  three.  I  sup- 
pose we  could  get  along  without  the  holly,  but 
somehow  I  don't  think  we  'd  better.  And  it  will 
amount  to  very  little,  in  comparison  with  what  we  '11 
take  in." 

284 


"IT  CAME  UPON  THE  MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

"  Yes,  you  '11  take  in  your  money  now,  instead  of 
at  the  end  of  the  year,  and  having  given  it  all  away, 
will  land  the  club  in  a  state  of  philanthropic  bank- 
ruptcy. Clare,  I  must  congratulate  you  on  your 
business  foresight  in  this  matter." 

"  Don't  speak  to  me  like  that,  Ardis,"  said  Clare, 
turning  her  face  away.  "  It  is  n't  necessary." 

"  I  'm  sorry,  little  one.  I  don't  mean  to  be  unkind ; 
but  you  must  understand  that  this  plan  of  yours  is  a 
very  impossible  one,  because  you  have  no  right  to 
run  the  club  into  debt  in  order  to  help  other  people 
out." 

"Then  you  won't  bring  it  up  before  the  club?" 
asked  Clare.  "You  know  it  is  the  business  of  the 
Manager  to  conduct  matters  of  this  kind." 

"  Pardon  me,  but  not  of  this  kind.  I  prefer  not  to 
bring  up  anything  for  discussion  that  obviously  can- 
not be  done." 

"  I  'm  sorry  that  you  think  it  cannot  be  done,"  said 
Clare,  "  because,  Ardis,  I  suppose  I  ought  to  tell 
you  —  I  Ve  made  up  my  mind  that  it 's  going  to  be 
done." 

"  Then  why  did  you  do  me  the  honor  of  consulting 
me  at  all?  You  seem  to  be  quite  capable  of  con- 
ducting the  whole  affair  yourself." 

"Because —  Oh,  Ardis,  don't  speak  to  me  like 
that !  You  are  the  Manager  of  my  club,  and  does  n't 
it  count  for  something  that  you  are  my  friend,  —  that 
I  Ve  always  wanted  to  consult  you  about  everything? 
I  thought  that  you  would  approve,  that  you  would 
help  — •  Oh,  I  am  so  disappointed !  " 

"  There  is  a  rehearsal  to-night ! "  thought  Ardis ; 
and  she  suddenly  rose  to  go. 

285 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Clare, 
anxiously. 

"  I  am  going  to  stop  this  foolishness  of  yours  before 
it  gets  any  farther." 

"  No,  no !  "  cried  Clare,  running  to  the  door. 
"  You  must  wait  a  minute.  Ardis,  Ardis,  do  you 
hear?  You  mustn't  say  anything  to  the  girls  about 
this,  before  rehearsal  to-night ;  it  is  n't  fair.  I  have  n't 
spoken  to  any  of  them,  because  I  was  waiting  to  con- 
sult you  first,  and  I  think  that  the  consent  of  the 
club  should  be  asked  from  the  club  as  a  whole,  and 
not  from  individuals  who  have  been  prejudiced  be- 
forehand. No,  Ardis,  you  shall  not  go.  No,  no, — 
wait." 

"  I  shall  be  obliged  to  take  you  away  from  that 
door  by  force,  if  you  don't  let  me  out,"  said  Ardis, 
impatiently.  "  Clare,  you  're  acting  like  a  fool !  " 

"  Then  you  can  go,"  said  Clare,  standing  aside. 
"  You  can  go,  because  I  don't  think  that  I  should 
like  to  have  you  hurt  me.  And  you  can  say  what 
you  like  to  the  girls.  I  don't  care  what  you  say,  as 
long  as  I  have  the  right  on  my  side." 

"  You  may  have  what  you  think  is  the  right  on 
your  side.  Who  was  it  that  said,  '  A  man  may 
believe  many  times,  without  knowing  once'?  And 
it  is  so  absurd  to  consider  this  a  question  of  right  and 
wrong,  anyway.  It 's  merely  a  question  of  what  is 
the  most  sensible  thing  to  do." 

Clare  was  trembling  all  over  now,  and  knew  that 
Ardis  would  despise  her  for  the  weakness  that  she 
could  not  conceal. 

"Why  must  I  always  show  when  I  am  hurt?  "  she 
thought.  "  Oh,  I  must  stop  this  —  I  must,  I  must." 

286 


"IT  CAME  UPON   THE   MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

Ardis  went  to  her,  and  took  one  of  the  cold  little 
hands  in  hers. 

"  Suppose  we  both  forget  all  about  this,"  she  said. 
"  I  will  agree  not  to  say  anything  to  the  girls  about 
your  plan,  if  you  will  make  the  same  promise.     Oh, 
Clare,  I  didn't  think  that  you  would  let  anything  — 
even  the  Glee  Club  —  come  between  you  and  me !  " 

Clare  struggled  with  herself  for  several  minutes 
before  she  could  speak,  and  then  she  said,  "  I  —  love 
you,  Ardis !  " 

"  You  used  to,"  said  Ardis,  quietly. 

"  I  do  now !  Oh,  Ardis,  don't  say  that  again.  I 
love  you  always  —  better  than  my  life.  There  are 
people  who  say  that  college  friendships  don't  count 
for  much,  but  those  are  the  people  who  do  not  know. 
Ardis,  you  know  that  I  love  you  —  that  I  would  do 
anything  in  this  world  for  you  that  I  thought  was 
right  —  "  Ardis  turned  to  go. 

"  Oh,  wait !  "  cried  Clare,  seizing  her  hand.  She 
regained  her  self-control  with  a  sudden  effort,  and 
said :  "  Ardis,  the  Harland  Glee  Club  is  more  than  a 
choral  society  of  trained  voices.  It  is  an  organiza- 
tion of  strong,  sympathetic,  intellectual  women.  It 
ought  to  be  a  power  for  good  —  an  influence  that 
would  make  itself  felt  outside  and  far  beyond  this 
college  world !  To  give  an  annual  concert  for  the 
College  Settlements  would  imply  no  extra  labor,  no 
individual  expense.  We  are  here,  as  you  say,  to 
sing.  It  is  our  duty  to  sing,  our  pleasure  to  sing. 
Why  not  make  it  our  glory  to  sing,  and  let  some  of 
that  music  go  back  to  the  God  that  gave  it?" 

"  You  have  heard  what  I  had  to  say,"  replied  Ardis, 
"  and  if  there 's  anything  I  detest,  it  is  useless  repeti- 

287 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

tion,  particularly  in  a  scrap.  I  don't  see  why  every 
scrap  should  not  be  conducted  according  to  parlia- 
mentary law.  Let  each  side  make  out  a  careful 
analysis  of  all  the  objectionable  things  that  it  has 
to  say  to  the  other,  and  say  them  in  order.  Then 
some  one  would  be  somewhere,  when  the  scrap  was 
over." 

Clare  threw  herself  down  on  the  bed,  and  buried 
her  face  in  the  crackling  depths  of  a  pine  pillow, 
that  spoke  remotely  of  summer  sunlight  and  the 
damp  fragrance  of  wood-paths.  Her  courage  de- 
parted as  she  heard  Ardis  close  the  door  behind  her, 
and  she  thought,  "  What  shall  I  do  !  Oh,  what  shall 
I  do ! " 

She  could  eat  no  supper  that  night,  and  when  she 
started  out  for  rehearsal,  she  knew  that  her  last 
vestige  of  self-confidence  was  gone.  The  rain  had 
stopped,  but  there  was  a  thick  fog,  that  seemed  to 
gather  up  the  silences  and  bring  them  so  near  that 
they  walked  beside  her.  Sometimes  she  thought 
that  she  heard  faint  whispers  not  far  from  her  ear; 
once  she  felt  the  touch  of  mysterious  fingers  upon 
her  forehead.  But  she  knew  that  a  certain  room  in 
Music  Hall  would  be  full  of  light  and  song  and 
laughter,  that  it  would  be  warmer  than  the  fog  was 
cold. 

"What  can  I  say  to  make  them  want  to  do  it?" 
she  thought.  "  Ah,  I  wonder  what  Ardis  has  said  to 
them  already  !  Perhaps  they  will  not  listen  to  me." 

She  pushed  open  the  great  door,  and  went  down 
the  hall  to  take  off  her  wraps. 

"Oh,  Miss  Deland,"  called  Gladys  Campbell, 
coming  out  of  the  rehearsal  room,  "  May  Churchill  is 

288 


"IT  CAME   UPON   THE   MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

going  to  cut  to-night.  What  do  you  think  of  that? 
She  says  the  fog  gets  into  her  throat." 

"  I  'm  devoutly  glad  of  that,"  thought  Clare. 
"  Come  here  and  kiss  me,  Gladys.  I  don't  believe 
that  I  can  lead  at  all,  unless  you  do." 

"  Miss  Hathaway  says  you  want  to  give  a  big 
concert  before  Christmas,"  said  Gladys,  accepting 
the  kiss  as  a  matter  of  course.  "  /  don't  want  to 
give  a  concert,  Miss  Deland.  It's  no  fun  to  get 
up  and  let  people  see  what  a  lot  of  sticks  we  are." 

She  spoke  with  the  playful  assurance  of  a  spoiled 
child  who  has  not  the  remotest  idea  of  what  it  means 
to  be  a  Freshman. 

"  Gladys  !  "  said  Clare,  turning  upon  her  suddenly. 
"  do  you  know  what  you  are  saying?  " 

Gladys  collapsed,  and  did  not  speak  again  for  the 
rest  of  the  evening. 

After  all,  it  was  not  so  hard  for  Clare  to  say  what 
was  in  her  mind,  when  she  had  once  begun.  She 
told  them  what  she  thought  it  ought  to  mean  to  be 
a  member  of  the  Harland  Glee  Club.  She  said  that 
it  would  be  very  hard,  if  you  were  little,  to  wake 
up  on  Christmas  morning  and  not  find  anything  in 
your  stocking,  and  that  it  would  be  harder  still 
if  you  had  no  little  stocking  to  hang  up.  It  would 
also  be  hard  to  have  no  Christmas  dinner,  especially 
if  you  had  to  see  other  children  whose  parents  gave 
them  not  only  dinners  and  breakfasts,  but  pink  sugar 
animals  to  eat  in  between-whiles. 

She   said   that   if  the  women's  colleges   took   no 

interest  in  little  poor  children  at  Christmas  time,  who 

could   be    expected   to?      And   then   she    reminded 

them  of  the  Man  who  had  been  a  little  child  Him- 

19  289 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

self,  and  who  said,  "  Do  this  in  remembrance  of 
me." 

The  scriptural  quotation  may  not  have  had  direct 
reference  to  giving  a  charity  concert,  but  it  made  no 
difference,  so  long  as,  with  a  single  exception,  it  was 
a  unanimous  vote. 

"  Will  you  speak  to  the  President  about  this, 
Ardis,"  asked  Clare,  after  rehearsal,  "  or  shall  I?" 

"  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  was  the  an- 
swer; and  accordingly  Clare  went  to  the  President 
the  next  morning. 

"  I  fear  that  this  concert  would  be  more  beneficial 
to  the  College  Settlements  than  to  the  members  of 
the  Glee  Club,"  he  said,  when  Clare  had  stated  her 
plans.  "  Of  course  such  a  performance  would  re- 
quire extra  rehearsals,  and  there  seems,  at  present, 
to  be  more  danger  from  over-work  in  recreation  than 
in  the  departments  of  study." 

"  The  Glee  Club  is  a  very  important  department 
of  study,"  said  Clare,  with  dignity,  "  because  it  teaches 
people  how  to  keep  their  tempers  and  be  a  useful 
part  of  a  valuable  whole.  It  is  also  the  best  possible 
form  of  recreation,  because  it  takes  one's  mind  off 
from  the  ordinary  routine  of  work." 

"Two  very  good  arguments,"  said  the  President, 
with  the  suspicion  of  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

"  And  to  give  a  concert  is  only  second  nature  to 
people  who  love  to  sing.  Music  was  meant  to  be 
heard ;  and  if  it  is  n't  heard,  it  reacts  on  itself,  and 
does  ever  and  ever  so  much  more  harm  than  it 
would  by  being  sung  at  a  concert.  You  see,  the 
girls  are  learning  new  music  all  the  time,  and  if  it 
is  n't  sung  pretty  soon  after  it  is  finished,  they  get 

290 


"IT   CAME   UPON   THE  MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

tired  of  it  and  lose  all  their  first  enthusiasm.  And  it 's 
easier  to  sing  before  an  audience  than  in  a  stuffy  little 
room,  because  the  Glee  Club,  like  every  other  musi- 
cal organization  in  the  world,  needs  the  stimulus  of 
outside  encouragement  to  do  its  best  work." 

"  I  see,"  said  the  President,  gravely.  "  But  do  you 
think  that  you  could  prepare  for  this  concert  without 
the  usual  number  of  extra  rehearsals?  " 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Clare.  "  You  yourself  have 
often  said  that  if  people  learn  their  lessons  well  every 
day,  there  is  no  necessity  to  cram  for  examinations." 

The  President  smiled. 

"  And  if  you  '11  let  me  give  the  concert,  I  '11  prom- 
ise to  do  it  with  only  two  extra  rehearsals  —  short 
little  ones  —  only  to  get  the  programme  in  order, 
and  show  the  girls  where  they  are  to  stand." 

"And  how  about  the  Banjo  Club?  You  do  not 
seem  to  have  included  them  in  your  promises." 

"  Oh,  they  can  play  the  same  things  that  they 
played  last  year.  Nobody  will  know  the  differ- 
ence." 

The  President  appeared  to  yield,  but  refused  to 
give  his  definite  permission  until  the  matter  had  been 
brought  before  the  "  Ladies-in-charge."  These  same 
ladies  were  to  hold  a  meeting  the  next  Saturday 
afternoon,  and  he  told  Clare  that  she  might  come  for 
her  answer  on  Monday  morning. 

Clare  wandered  restlessly  around,  outside  College 
Hall,  while  the  meeting  was  going  on,  hoping  that 
she  might  discover  something  from  the  faces  of  the 
matrons  as  they  went  back  to  their  various  houses ; 
but  this  was  of  no  use  at  all,  because  every  matron 
knew  that  it  was  her  duty  to  appear  non-committal. 

291 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

Mrs.  Halifax  was  the  last  to  come  out,  and  when 
she  saw  Clare  lurking  around  the  college  entrance 
she  walked  slowly  over  to  the  Storey  House  steps, 
then  stopped  and  beckoned  mysteriously.  Clare  ran 
up  to  her,  and  they  both  looked  around  to  make 
sure  that  nobody  was  in  sight. 

"  It's  all  right!  "  whispered  Mrs.  Halifax,  quickly. 
"Now  run  along  home  and  get  your  supper." 

Clare  thanked  her  and  did  as  she  was  told,  won- 
dering meanwhile  if  it  was  not  the  people  like  Mrs. 
Halifax  who  madf  the  world  kind  enough  for  other 
and  very  young  people  to  live  in ! 

Ardis  relented  at  the  last  and  presided  over  the 
sale  of  the  tickets,  for  this  would  be  expected  of  her 
by  the  college  at  large,  and  she  did  not  care  to  invite 
criticism.  But  she  refused  to  do  anything  else,  and, 
as  time  went  on,  the  continued  friction  and  opposition 
became  so  unendurable  that  Clare  thought  seriously 
of  resigning  her  position  on  the  club. 

One  afternoon,  not  long  before  the  concert,  she  was 
seized  with  a  very  bad  headache,  and  as  there  was  to 
be  an  important  rehearsal  that  night,  she  sent  for 
Ardis  to  take  her  place. 

"Why  not  postpone  the  rehearsal?"  asked  the 
Assistant  Leader,  who  was  much  annoyed  at  finding 
Clare  in  bed.  "  It  is  very  demoralizing  for  a  club 
to  be  drilled  by  two  different  people  with  entirely 
opposite  ideas.  I  would  only  undo  what  you  have 
done." 

"  But  you  know  how  we  have  been  in  the  habit  of 
singing  the  music.  The  girls  know  the  songs  well 
enough  already;  but,  unfortunately,  we  can't  be  con- 
tent with '  well  enough.'  This  music  must  be  perfect." 

292 


"IT  CAME   UPON   THE   MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

"  Then  you  had  better  come  down  and  attend  to  it 
yourself.  I  don't  think  that  I  could  achieve  perfec- 
tion in  any  line.  That  must  be  left  to  the  people 
who  have  more  confidence  in  themselves." 

"Then,  if  you  absolutely  refuse  to  take  the  re- 
hearsal to-night,  will  you  please  tell  the  girls  that 
there  isn't  to  be  any?" 

"  No,  I  won't  —  for  the  reason  that  I  want  to  hold 
a  short  business  meeting  to  decide  how  many  tickets 
are  to  be  given  away." 

"  There  are  to  be  no  tickets  given  away !  "  said 
Clare,  sitting  up  in  bed.  "  What  is  the  object  in 
having  a  charity  concert  if  the  tickets  are  to  be  given 
away?  " 

"  Charity  sometimes  begins  at  home,"  said  Ardis, 
smiling,  "  and  it  has  always  been  the  custom  for  each 
member  to  have  six  or  eight  tickets  to  distribute 
among  friends.  Of  course,  you,  being  the  Leader, 
would  have  a  few  more." 

"  But  do  you  realize  that  giving  away  these  tickets 
would  make  nearly  fifty  dollars  less  for  our  Settle- 
ment children?  I  have  counted  up,  and,  Ardis,  it 
must  not  be  done.  Why,  you  know,  Dr.  Page  let  us 
have  our  programmes  printed  by  the  man  who  does 
the  Analysis  slips  for  him,  just  because  he  knew  that 
we  wanted  to  save  expense.  And  Mr.  Hughes  and 
the  night-watchman  both  offered  to  give  their  ser- 
vices. And  then  to  think  of  our  taking  tickets  to 
give  away  !  You  know  that  this  is  not  to  be  a  society 
event,  like  the  March  concert,  but  all  very  simple  — 
given  in  the  afternoon,  among  the  holly,  and  with  the 
dear  Christmas  Carol  at  the  end.  It  is  different  from 
the  other  concert,  Ardis.  Can't  you  understand? " 

293 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  I  will  bring  the  matter  up  before  the  club  to- 
night, and  perhaps,  if  you  are  not  there,  they  may 
have  a  chance  to  exercise  a  little  individual  judgment 
for  themselves." 

Clare  said  nothing;  but  when  Ardis  had  gone 
away,  she  cried. 

"  I  am  the  weakest  character  in  the  world,"  she 
thought.  "  I  am  not  fit  to  be  at  the  head  of  any- 
thing. But  no,  it  is  not  the  real  Clare  that  cries !  It 
is  the  other  one  who  is  always  getting  hurt,  —  the 
one  who  is  n't  strong.  Oh,  I  don't  like  that  other 
one !  " 

She  struggled  into  her  clothes  while  the  household 
was  at  supper,  and  when  the  Glee  Club  girls  assem- 
bled for  rehearsal  she  was  there  to  lead  them.  The 
matter  of  the  tickets  was  decided  in  a  very  few 
minutes,  and  Clare's  mind  was  set  at  rest  by  the 
knowledge  that  none  were  to  be  given  away.  Then 
she  tried  to  conduct  the  rehearsal,  but  looked  so  ill 
that  the  girls  rebelled,  and  Kathleen  Carey  took  her 
home. 

When  the  afternoon  of  the  concert  came,  every 
seat  in  the  chapel  had  been  engaged  for  over  a 
week,  and  chairs  were  placed  in  the  German  room, 
or  in  the  hall  outside,  for  the  people  who  had  only 
tickets  of  admission.  Mr.  Hughes,  the  janitor,  took 
in  money  at  the  front  door,  and  the  night-watchman, 
who  was  a  firm  friend  of  the  Glee  Club,  received  the 
tickets  at  the  chapel  entrance  above.  The  great 
hall  was  beautifully  trimmed  with  holly  and  Christ- 
mas greens,  and  each  one  of  the  ushers  wore  a  little 
sprig  of  holly  in  her  gown. 

Clare  was  delighted  to  find  that  her  audience  was 
294 


"IT  CAME   UPON   THE   MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

composed  of  the  people  whom  she  would  have  liked 
most  to  see  there.  All  the  young  Faculty,  who 
boarded  or  took  meals  at  Miss  Taylor's  had  bought 
tickets,  and  old  Dr.  Burton  occupied  a  seat  in  the 
front  row,  next  his  son.  Even  the  gardener  walked 
in  proudly  with  a  ticket  that  had  been  secured  a 
week  before,  and  two  of  the  "  scrub-ladies,"  whom 
Clare  sometimes  encountered  after  college  hours, 
appeared  in  their  best  clothes.  Mr.  Henley,  the 
druggist,  was  sitting  near  Mrs.  Flannagan,  of  the  fa- 
mous chocolate  cakes;  and  the  man  who  kept  the 
second-hand  bookstore  was  there. 

As  the  concert  was  for  charity,  the  President  had 
allowed  it  to  be  advertised  down  town,  and  a  number 
of  country  people  had  driven  in  to  hear  the  Harland 
Glee  Club  sing.  Near  the  back  row,  in  one  of  the 
transepts,  Clare  spied  her  old  friend  of  Sophomore 
year,  —  the  one  whose  barn  had  been  theirs  on  that 
memorable  Decoration  Day  when  they  were  caught 
in  the  rain.  She  went  up  to  shake  hands  with  him 
and  his  wife ;  and  then  she  asked  about  the  two  iron- 
gray  cart-horses  who  had  kindly  contributed  their 
nose-bag,  and  the  gentle  cow  with  the  tan-colored 
spots  on  her  sides. 

"Be  you  in  the  show?"  asked  the  farmer  with 
interest,  observing  Clare's  white  gown ;  and  both  he 
and  his  wife  looked  highly  gratified  when  she  replied 
that  she  was. 

There  was  something  about  that  audience  that 
caused  a  strange  choking  sensation  to  rise  in  Clare's 
throat,  and  when  she  went  to  gather  her  little  flock 
around  her,  she  felt  that  they  were  nearer  than  they 
had  ever  been  before.  One  of  them  told  her  that  a 

29S 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

lady  who  could  not  come  had  just  sent  in  five  dollars 
for  the  children  of  the  College  Settlements,  and  Clare 
said :  "  Oh,  how  many  pink  transparent  sugar  animals 
and  fat  yellow  oranges  that  will  buy !  Come,  my 
dear  ones —  my  dear  ones,  we  are  ready  to  begin  !  " 

The  first  number  was  received  with  a  great  deal  of 
enthusiasm,  which  increased  as  the  programme  went 
on.  The  Banjo  Club  played  well,  and  alternated 
pleasantly  with  the  more  serious  work  of  the  others. 

"  They  sing  wonderfully  well,"  said  one  of  the 
townswomen  who  had  journeyed  long  in  the  music 
world.  "Who  has  trained  them  to  sing  like  this?" 
she  asked  of  an  usher  with  holly  in  her  hair. 

"  Miss  Deland  is  the  Leader  now,"  answered  the 
Sophomore,  with  that  pretty  air  of  pride  in  a  valuable 
possession  which  one  Harland  girl  is  very  likely  to 
manifest  in  speaking  of  another.  "  Our  Glee  Club 
has  always  been  trained  by  one  of  the  students.  We 
wanted  Miss  Deland  to  have  her  name  on  the  pro- 
gramme, even  if  the  others  were  n't;  but  she  said  that 
it  didn't  make  any  difference  who  the  Leader  was, — 
that  they  all  did  it  together." 

"  This  is  truly  a  Christmas  concert !  "  said  the  lady, 
smiling,  with  the  tears  in  her  eyes. 

Before  the  intermission  came  it  had  begun  to  snow, 
and  it  snowed  softly  all  through  the  final  numbers, 
and  the  "  dear  Christmas  Carol "  at  the  end.  Dr. 
Page  had  promised  to  play  the  carol  upon  the  big 
organ,  and  he  slipped  in  unseen  while  the  Glee  Club 
was  singing  "  Fair  Harland."  Now,  he  himself  had 
composed  the  music  for  "  Fair  Harland;  "  and  when 
the  Glee  Club  reached  the  last  verse,  there  came  sud- 
denly from  the  organ  those  same  beautiful  chords 

296 


"IT   CAME   UPON   THE   MIDNIGHT  CLEAR" 

that  every  one  loved  so  well,  and  organ  and  Glee 
Club  finished  their  college  song  together.  Then  Dr. 
Page  played  the  prelude  to  the  Christmas  Carol,  the 
Glee  Club  opened  their  hymn-books  without  leaving 
the  platform,  and  the  whole  audience  joined  in  sing- 
ing, "  It  came  upon  the  midnight  clear,  That  glorious 
song  of  old," — that  same  glorious  song  that  the  snow- 
flakes  may  have  heard  before  they  floated  down 
through  the  winter  night  to  drift  against  the  chapel 
windows. 

Every  one  hurried  away  when  the  concert  was 
over,  for  it  was  nearly  six  o'clock,  and  downstairs 
there  was  a  confused  scramble  of  college  girls  talk- 
ing about  the  music,  Wyckham  men  stamping 
through  the  hall  with  their  coat-collars  turned  up, 
and  townspeople  searching  in  vain  for  their  wraps. 
It  is  characteristic  of  all  musical  performers  to  dis- 
appear as  soon  as  an  entertainment  is  over,  and  one 
Glee  Club  girl  seldom  sees  another  between  the  time 
when  the  last  note  is  sung  and  chapel  the  next 
morning.  But  when  Clare  pushed  open  the  side 
door  and  ran  out  into  the  snow,  she  was  touched  to 
find  that  several  of  her  girls  were  waiting  upon  the 
steps  to  say  good-night. 

"  Did  n't  it  go  off  splendidly?  "  asked  Isabel  Bovey, 
taking  Clare  into  her  arms. 

"And  didn't  we  sing  well?"  asked  Virginia,  tri- 
umphantly.   "  We  could  n't  go  home  without  hearing 
you  say  that  we  sang  better  than  you  had  expected." 
"  I  knew  that  you  would  sing  well,"  answered  Clare ; 
"  you  always  do  !  " 

"  Yes,  because  we  have  you,"  said  Faith.     "  We 
wanted  you  to  know,  before  we  went  home,  that  we 

297 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

did  it  all  for  you  to-night,  Clare.  We  tried  our  very 
best  because  of  you,  little  dear !  " 

Clare  tried  to  say  something  more  about  the  sing- 
ing, but  the  words  would  not  come. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  ones,"  she  cried,  "  good-night !  " 
and  in  a  minute  she  was  running  blindly  towards 
home,  with  the  snow  in  her  face,  scarcely  looking  or 
caring  where  she  went  because  of  that  pain  in  her 
heart.  She  had  decided  to  resign  the  Glee  Club 
leadership  in  the  morning. 


298 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

"  DID  you  know  that  we  took  in  one  hundred  and 
seventy  dollars?"  asked  Kathleen,  as  Clare  came 
into  Music  Hall  the  next  afternoon.  Ardis  had 
called  a  business  meeting  of  the  club,  to  decide  upon 
the  final  disposition  of  the  money,  but  there  seemed 
to  be  some  difficulty  in  obtaining  a  quorum. 

"  Where  is  everybody?"  asked  the  Manager,  in- 
dignantly, pacing  the  floor,  notebook  in  hand. 

"  Here,  on  the  radiator !  "  answered  Kathleen,  lift- 
ing Clare  into  that  exalted  position. 

"  If  she  would  only  have  helped  me,  I  could  have 
stood  it,"  Clare  was  thinking,  "  but  I  cannot  do  it  all 
alone.  Oh,  Ardis,  Ardis,  Ardis  !  " 

"Who's  there?"  called  out  Kathleen,  as  the  big 
door  slammed  again. 

" '  Thou  seest  I  am  one  who  weeps/  "  said  Faith, 
coming  in  with  a  blast  of  icy  air.  "  It 's  the  kind  of 
day  when  force  of  character  centres  in  the  end  of  the 
nose." 

Kate  Dervish  and  Virginia  Paul  dropped  in  as  if 
by  accident,  and  a  number  of  others  appeared  from 
music-rooms  where  they  had  been  loudly  practising 
until  their  time  was  up.  When  two  more  had  been 
forcibly  extracted  from  the  college  reading  room, 
where  they  were  keeping  guard  over  a  book,  there 

299 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

were  enough  people  to  vote,  and  the  meeting  came 
to  order.  Seventy-five  dollars  were  assigned  to  the 
New  York  Settlement,  fifty  to  Dennison  House  in 
Boston,  and  twenty-five  to  the  Settlement  in  Phila- 
delphia. The  expenses  of  the  concert  had  been  ten 
dollars,  and  the  club  suggested  that  the  remaining 
ten  should  be  divided  up  among  them,  to  buy  Christ- 
mas presents  with. 

"  The  Banjo  Club  voted  beforehand,"  said  Clare, 
"that  whatever  money  was  left  over  should  be  given 
to  them,  and  Beatrice  Adams  said  that  she  hoped  we 
would  respect  their  decision." 

There  was  a  hoot  of  derision  at  this ;  but  Beatrice 
Adams,  the  leader  of  the  Banjo  Club,  won  her  point, 
because  she  had  realized  that  a  sense  of  humor  is  the 
highest  common  factor  between  musical  organizations 
in  the  same  college. 

"It's  all  right  that  they  should  have  the  ten  dol- 
lars, anyhow,"  said  one  of  the  girls,  "  because  Kath- 
leen broke  all  the  strings  in  two  banjos  by  sitting  on 
them  after  the  concert." 

"  Well,  if  the  instruments  were  on  top  of  each 
other,  how  could  I  sit  on  one  without  sitting  on  the 
other,"  protested  Kathleen,  indignantly;  "  and  be- 
sides, I  did  n't  sit  on  either  of  them." 

"  Oh,  Kathleen !  "  expostulated  Mary  Donnelly, 
softly. 

"  Well,  I  doubt  if  I  did ;  and  Whately  says  '  de- 
liberate and  confirmed  Doubt,  on  a  question  that  one 
has  attended  to,  implies  a  verdict  of  not  proven.'" 

"There  is  not  much  doubt  that  you  'attended  to* 
this  question,"  said  Clare,  laughing;  and  then  she 
stopped  and  gave  a  kind  of  gasp,  wondering  if  she 

300 


THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

had  the  courage  to  do  what  she  had  come  to  do,  and 
not  feeling  sure  but  the  planning  of  it  had  all  been 
a  bad  dream. 

"  Girls,  there  is  something  that  I  wanted  to  say  to 
you,"  she  began,  and  then  the  sweet  familiarity  of 
the  faces  before  her  made  it  almost  impossible  to  go 
on.  She  stopped  and  said  to  herself,  "You  mustn't 
cry ;  no,  you  must  n't  cry.  If  you  cry,  I  '11  kill  you." 

"  I  've  been  thinking,"  she  continued  with  an  effort, 
"  that  I  'm  not  very  strong  anyway,  and  that  perhaps 
it  might  be  better  —  " 

"  Clare,"  interrupted  Faith  Bentley,  reading  in  her 
face  what  she  was  about  to  say,  "  wait  a  minute  — 
you  must  wait  —  you  don't  know  —  She  had 
risen  from  her  seat,  and  the  girls  looked  at  her  in 
astonishment. 

"  This  is  not  exactly  parliamentary,  Miss  Bentley," 
said  Ardis.  "  Perhaps  the  Leader  would  like  to  finish 
what  she  was  going  to  say." 

Faith  looked  at  Ardis,  and  Ardis  looked  at  Faith, 
and  suddenly  Ardis  went  white  up  to  her  delicate 
temples,  and  turned  her  face  away. 

"  We  will  —  dismiss  the  meeting,  then,"  said  Clare, 
looking  puzzled.  "  The  matter  that  I  wanted  to 
speak  of  can  wait  until  next  term." 

The  meeting  adjourned  more  quietly  than  usual, 
and  Faith  took  Clare  by  the  hand,  saying :  "  Come 
into  the  organ  room  a  minute.  I  must  speak  to  you 
and  —  explain.  I  saw  what  you  were  going  to  do," 
she  said,  as  soon  as  the  door  was  closed,  "  and  I 
know  that  you  have  been  driven  to  it;  but,  Clare, 
I  tell  you  that  you  simply  must  not  resign.  You 
mustn't  — that's  all!" 

301 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

"  It  is  harder  for  me  than  for  any  one  else,"  said 
Clare,  "  but  circumstances  that  you  know  nothing  of 
have  forced  me  to  it,  and  I  've  made  up  my  mind 
that  it's  right." 

" '  Circumstances  that  I  know  nothing  of,' "  re- 
peated Faith,  scornfully.  "  Perhaps  you  forget  that 
I  'm  with  her  on  the  editorial  staff." 

"  I  did  n't  mention  any  names." 

"  No ;  neither  did  I.  Oh,  well,  Clare,  I  may  be 
material  and  pointless  and  violent,  but  I'm  not  a 
fool !  " 

"  I  never  thought  that  you  were  until  you  inter- 
rupted me  this  afternoon.  I  don't  think  you  quite 
knew  what  you  did  —  that's  all." 

"  I  suppose  you  know  that  if  you  resign,  they  will 
put  Ardis  in  your  place.  There 's  no  one  else." 

"  Yes,  I  know  they  will.  She  will  make  a  very 
good  Leader." 

"  Clare,  Ardis  must  not  be  at  the  head  of  this 
club." 

"  Don't  you  think  she  could  do  it,  in  addition  to 
her  editorial  work?  She  is  strong,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  yes,  her  'Prism'  work  would  n't  interfere  in  the 
least,  not  in  the  least;  she  would  n't  allow  it  to.  It 
would  be  against  whatever  principles  she  thinks  she 
has." 

"  Faith,  what  do  you  mean?  I  don't  believe  you 
know  what  you  do  mean." 

"  Do  you  consider  that  you  are  resigning  on  your 
own  account  or  on  that  of  your  club?" 

"  On  account  of  my  club.  I  'm  so  tired  with  con- 
tinual —  well,  I  'm  so  tired,  most  of  the  time,  that  there 
is  n't  enough  left  of  me  to  lead  them." 

302 


THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

She  determined  not  to  let  Faith  know  that  Ardis 
had  left  all  the  work  of  the  management,  as  well  as 
that  of  the  leadership,  to  her,  and  that  this  strain,  in 
addition  to  the  constant  opposition,  was  more  than 
she  could  bear. 

"  You  were  a  great  fool  to  make  Ardis  Assistant 
Leader,"  said  Faith. 

"  I  'm  a  great  fool  to  care  about  things  as  I 
do.  That's  the  principal  direction  in  which  I  show 
my  folly.  If  I  cared  less,  I  might  be  able  to  do 
more;  but  as  long  as  I  can't  help  caring,  and  I 
have  n't  enough  strength  to  both  care  and  lead,  the 
leading  must  be  given  up.  You  can  call  it  lack 
of  self-control  if  you  like;  I  don't  care  what  you 
call  it" 

"  Don't  you  know  that  you  can  lead  better,  when 
you  're  tired  to  death,  than  another  person  could, 
who  had  twenty-horse  power  of  muscle?  This  club 
does  n't  need  a  policeman ;  it  wants  a  musician." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Clare ;  "  but  I  know  that  I  can't 
do  justice  to  my  club  when  I  'm  worried  all  the  time, 
so  I  think  it  is  merely  decent  to  turn  them  over  to 
some  one  who  can.  Perhaps  you  don't  think  that  I 
care ;  perhaps  you  don't  know  that  they  are  so  much 
of  myself  that  when  they  are  gone,  there  will  be 
very  little  of  me  left  —  even  less  than  there  is  now. 
The  college  has  n't  given  me  so  very  much,  Faith. 
I  have  never  held  any  office  in  my  class.  I  have 
just  been  'little  Clare,'  you  know;  that's  what  they 
called  me,  —  '  little  Clare '  —  and  that 's  all  I  meant 
to  them.  And  then,  at  the  beginning  of  the  last,  this 
most  precious  gift  came  to  me  as  my  own,  —  some- 
thing for  me  to  love  and  care  for,  something  that 

3°3 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

was  all  my  own.  They  are  mine  —  mine,  do  you 
understand?  And  I  must  give  them  up  because  I 
can  no  longer  do  well  by  them  —  because  I  love 
them  well  enough  to  give  them  up.  But,  oh,  the 
Monday  and  Thursday  nights  !  I  could  bear  it  better 
if  it  was  n't  for  that.  There  will  be  the  Monday  and 
Thursday  nights  all  alone." 

While  Clare  was  speaking,  Faith  had  been  under- 
going an  ethical  struggle  which  yielded  no  supremacy 
to  either  side.  She  had  stumbled  into  one  of  those 
complex  situations,  peculiar  to  small  places,  in  which 
every  one  bears  so  distinct  a  relation  to  everybody 
else  that  the  slightest  misadjustment  ends  in  a 
spiritual  fracas. 

"  The  welfare  of  our  Glee  Club  is  worth  more  than 
the  feelings  of  any  one  girl,  no  matter  who  she  may 
be,"  she  thought ;  and  then  she  decided  that  it  was 
her  duty  to  tell  Clare  what  she  had  discovered  about 
Ardis.  Not  very  much,  and  not  who  the  girl  was 
whose  place  on  the  "  Prism"  had  been  stolen  away; 
but  enough  to  make  Clare  turn  white,  and  draw  one 
or  two  long  sobbing  breaths,  that  hurt  Faith  more 
than  they  hurt  Clare. 

"Can  you  ever  forgive  me?"  she  asked,  wiping 
away  a  few  miserable  tears  on  her  brown  "  pussy " 
mittens,  which  sizzled  pathetically  when  tossed  back 
on  the  radiator. 

"  It  was  right  to  tell  me,"  said  Clare,  looking  some- 
what dazed.  "  It  is  the  Glee  Club,  you  know,  only 
the  Glee  Club  —  no  girl  who  could  do  such  a  thing  — 
I  wish  it  had  been  any  one  but  you  who  told  me,  and 
then  I  could  have  thought  it  was  a  lie.  But  you  said 
that  Miss  Carlisle  knows  —  that  you  found  it  out  by 


THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

accident  from  —  who  was  it?  Never  mind,  but  you 
said  that  Miss  Carlisle  knows." 

"  One  of  the  Ninety-four  editors  told  me,"  said 
Faith,  "  and  I  would  n't  believe  it,  because  we  all 
loved  her,  you  know,  — the  President  of  Ninety-five." 

"  She  was  an  easy  thing  to  love,"  said  Clare,  in  a 
low  voice,  "  very  easy,  very  easy  indeed.  But  one 
must  think  only  of  the  Glee  Club,  —  always  of  them. 
It  was  right  to  tell  me;  I  understand.  Only,  now 
that  you  have  told  me,  can't  you  go  away  and  leave 
me  alone  with  my  dead  ?  " 

When  Faith  had  gone,  she  thought,  "  I  won't 
believe  it  until  I  've  asked  Miss  Carlisle." 

But  the  next  day,  when  there  was  an  opportunity 
to  ask  Miss  Carlisle,  she  found  that  she  did  not  dare; 
and  then  she  knew  that  it  was  all  over.  She  said  to 
herself,  "  Christine  must  never  know !  " 

One  morning  vacation  had  come,  and  she  was 
driving  down  to  the  station  with  some  of  the  other 
girls.  The  snow  was  shining  with  a  newly  formed 
crust,  and  Christmas  greens  hung  in  all  the  windows. 
"  Merry  Christmas,  Clare,"  called  some  one  from 
somewhere.  "  Merry  Christmas  !  Merry  Christmas  ! 
Good-bye."  The  words  came  back  to  her  that  night 
when  she  was  awakened  by  hearing  people  singing 
in  the  street.  They  were  young  men  coming  out  of 
the  Club  House  next  door,  and  their  song  was: 
"  Hark !  the  herald  angels."  It  was  very  beautiful, 
and  Clare  sat  up  in  bed  to  listen.  "  I  do  wish,"  she 
thought,  "  that  some  of  my  girls  could  sing  bass  !  " 

The  song  died  away  into  the  starlight  and  stillness, 
and  she  lay  down  again  thinking  of  the  college  and 
of  the  great -deserted  chapel,  with  the  holly  berries 
20  3°5 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

dropping  down,  one  by  one,  into  the  shadows ;  and 
then  she  thought  of  the  Music  Building,  empty  and 
dark. 

"  Oh,  Ardis  !  "  she  cried,  "  it  is  n't  Merry  Christmas. 
It  can't  be  Merry  Christmas  any  more.  But  it's 
'  Good-bye ' !  " 

Ethel  Deland  was  married  on  New  Year's  Day, 
and  in  the  excitement  of  being  a  one  and  only  brides- 
maid, Clare  found  less  time  to  think  of  her  woes. 
But  they  returned  in  full  force  when  she  went  back  to 
winter  term,  knowing  that  she  must  begin  now,  and 
relinquish  the  ideal  that  had  been  the  dearest  posses- 
sion of  her  college  life.  And  such  things  must 
always  die  a  lingering  death.  One  is  forced  to  wait 
by  their  bedside,  night  after  night,  and  witness  all 
their  pain,  until  one  morning  they  are  gone;  and 
with  them  is  gone  something  that  used  to  be  a  part 
of  ourselves,  but  which  we  should  not  know  if  we 
met  again. 

Clare  could  not  believe  that  the  real  Ardis  was  so 
different  from  the  one  she  had  loved.  There  were 
the  same  dear  eyes  and  hair,  the  same  sweet,  merry 
ways,  —  the  same  Ardis  in  everything  but  what 
meant  so  much  to  Clare.  The  girl  Ardis  had  ex- 
isted in  her  imagination  only,  and  now  the  girl  Ardis 
was  dead. 

"  But  I  promised  to  stand  by  her  unto  death," 
she  thought,  "  and  now  the  time  has  come.  She 
has  died  in  a  different  way  from  what  I  meant, — 
that's  all." 

Clare  wondered  what  relation  the  girl  that  was 
left  bore  to  this  other  one  who  had  gone,  and  who 
had  torn  away  so  much  youngness  in  the  going. 

306 


THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

"  I  wonder  if  she  could  lift  her  hand  like  that,  in 
just  that  one  dear  way  that  she  alone  knows,  if  she 
were  so  different  from  what  she  used  —  no,  she  never 
was,  she  never  was  !  And  it  was  not  her  fault  that  I 
idealized  her,  and  made  her  all  kinds  of  lovelinesses 
that  she  was  not.  She  never  pretended  to  be  different. 
It  is  I  who  made  the  mistake.  And  it  was  '  unto 
death '  that  I  promised.  That  means  as  long  as  I 
myself  am  alive.  It  shall  be  so."  And  with  this 
determination  in  her  heart  the  new  term  began. 

One  night  there  was  to  be  a  lecture  by  Charles 
Dudley  Warner  in  the  Gymnasium,  and  while  Clare 
was  at  supper,  Ardis  came  up  to  ask  if  she  would  be 
willing  to  omit  the  Glee  Club  rehearsal  that  evening. 

"The  lecture  doesn't  begin  until  half-past  seven, 
so  I  hardly  see  how  it  can  conflict  with  rehearsal," 
said  Clare,  "  but  if  you  're  sure  that  the  girls  would 
rather  not  have  one,  why,  of  course,  it  does  n't  make 
any  difference  to  me." 

"  Well,  I  only  know  what  they  said,"  replied  Ardis, 
"  and  I  admit  that  it  is  n't  exactly  constitutional ;  but 
we  can  hold  a  business  meeting  to-morrow,  and  vote 
on  it.  Resolved :  That  rehearsal  should  be  omitted 
last  night,  so  that  we  could  all  have  time  to  dress  for 
the  lecture." 

"  All  right,"  said  Clare,  laughing,  "  but  you  will 
see  that  they  all  understand  about  it,  won't  you  ?  It 
would  be  dreadful  if  any  of  them  went  over  there, 
and  we  did  n't  come." 

Ardis  promised,  and  took  her  departure,  thinking: 
"  It  is  quite  evident  that  Faith  has  n't  told  her  any- 
thing that  I  would  not  like  her  to  hear.  But  I  won- 
der why  she  did  n't  resign  that  day,  when  she  had 

3°7 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

herself  all  worked  up   into  the  proper  state  of  ex- 
citement! " 

It  was  not  an  ordinary  college  lecture  that  night, 
but  an  entertainment  given  by  the  Hadley  House, 
which  had  secured  Mr.  Warner  through  the  offices  of 
Miss  Carlisle. 

When  Clare  arrived  at  the  Gymnasium,  there  was 
such  a  crowd  about  the  two  entrances  that  she  soon 
became  separated  from  Ruth  and  Christine,  and  did 
not  reach  the  basement  until  after  they  had  gone 
upstairs.  While  she  was  in  one  of  the  dressing- 
rooms,  taking  off  her  wraps,  she  overheard  May 
Churchill  talking  loudly  to  some  one  just  outside 
the  door. 

"  We  went  over  there,  and  waited  half  an  hour," 
she  said,  "  and  not  a  soul  turned  up !  And  we 
would  n't  go  away,  because  of  our  loyalty  to  that 
Leader  of  ours.  A  nice  kind  of  Leader  she  is,  too, 
to  tell  some  of  us  that  there  was  to  be  no  rehearsal, 
and  let  the  rest  find  it  out  for  themselves.  It'll  be 
some  time  before  I  burden  her  with  my  presence 
again  —  I  can  tell  you  that." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  there  has  been  a  misunderstand- 
ing," said  Clare,  coming  out  of  the  room.  "  Ardis 
told  me  that  all  the  girls  had  been,  or  would  be,  noti- 
fied about  the  omission  of  the  rehearsal,  and  I  did  n't 
know  about  it  myself  until  supper-time.  I  under- 
stood that  none  of  you  wanted  to  have  one  to-night, 
because  of  the  lecture." 

"  Oh,  don't  try  to  lay  it  off  on  Ardis,"  said  May, 
rudely.  "  You  're  the  head  of  the  club,  and  if  any- 
thing goes  wrong,  it  is  you  who  are  to  blame.  I 
suppose  that  it  is  very  easy  for  you  to  leave  the  club 

308 


THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

in  the  lurch,  the  first  time  that  you  want  to  go  any- 
where ;  but  you  '11  find  that  it  is  n't  so  easy  to  get 
them  together  again,  the  next  time  you  want  them, 
that  's  all." 

Clare's  eyes  blazed  suddenly,  and  she  began,  "  Do 
you  mean  to  say  — "  Then  she  thought,  "  No,  they 
are  like  my  children.  I  must  n't  let  myself  be  angry 
with  them."  But  for  a  minute  she  would  not  trust 
herself  to  speak. 

"  If  I  were  you  I  would  n't  try  to  lie  out  of  it, 
either,"  said  May.  "The  few  of  us  that  were  over 
there  can  fix  up  an  alibi  for  you  in  good  form." 

"  Oh,  May,  don't !  "  said  the  Glee  Club  Sophomore, 
in  distress.  "  What  will  she  think  of  you?  " 

"  I  don't  care  that  what  she  thinks  of  me,"  said 
May,  shaking  her  fist  in  Clare's  face ;  and  then  she 
turned  and  walked  away. 

"  Don't  mind  her,"  implored  the  girl,  stopping  a 
minute  behind.  "  She  would  n't  have  said  what  she 
did,  if  it  had  n't  been  for  being  so  disappointed  in 
you  !  " 

Then  the  two  went  upstairs,  and  Clare  was  left  to 
gather  up  the  fragments  of  the  encounter  as  best 
she  could.  She  knew  that  the  situation  was  one  for 
which  she  had  not  been  trained,  and  with  which  she 
was  powerless  to  deal.  What  ought  you  to  say  to 
people  who  shake  their  fists  in  your  face  and  call 
you  a  liar?  Refinement  is  always  helpless  in  the 
presence  of  vulgarity,  because  vulgarity  does  not 
fight  fair;  it  attacks  with  slung-shots  and  sand- 
bags, and  great  jagged  pieces  of  iron,  while  refine- 
ment is  meekly  preparing  to  defend  itself  with 
pins. 

3°9 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

"  I  '11  read  the  dictionary !  "  cried  Clare,  with  a 
sudden  explosion  of  wrath.  "  I  won't  be  beaten 
next  time,  for  lack  of  names  to  call  her !  " 

Then  she  remembered  what  the  Junior  had  said 
about  proving  an  alibi,  and  began  to  laugh.  "  May 
was  absolutely  ridiculous,"  she  thought.  "  I  suppose 
that  I  ought  to  be  proud  of  having  such  a  bright  set 
of  girls  on  the  club  !  " 

People  often  said  that  Clare's  sense  of  humor  had 
been  her  salvation. 

"  But  I  never  heard  of  any  one  speaking  to  a 
Leader  as  she  spoke  to  me.  What 's  the  matter  with 
me,  anyhow,  that  I  can't  inspire  a  decent  amount  of 
respect  in  the  girls?  I  wish  I  were  taller,  and  not  a 
fool,  and  could  talk  straight  when  I  have  anything 
to  say !  " 

And  then  the  words  of  the  Sophomore  came  back 
to  her  with  a  reproach  more  pathetic  than  she  had 
realized  at  the  time.  "  She  would  n't  have  said  what 
she  did,  if  it  had  n't  been  for  being  so  disappointed 
in  you !  "  Clare  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  and 
sat  down  on  one  of  the  steps.  She  heard  a  faint 
rumble  of  applause  in  the  Gymnasium  above,  and 
knew  that  the  lecture  had  begun. 

"  May  was  right,"  she  thought.  "  I  am  the  head 
of  the  club,  and  when  anything  goes  wrong,  it  is  I 
who  am  to  blame.  I  ought  not  to  have  trusted  Ardis 
to  tell  the  girls.  I  ought  not  to  have  left  anything 
to  her,  when  she  has  failed  me  so  many  times.  But 
it  is  hard  not  to  be  influenced  by  a  person  that  you 
love — oh,  so  hard!  And  the  girls  have  found  out 
now  that  I  am  nothing  but  a  failure  from  beginning 
to  end,  and  are  n't  afraid  to  tell  me  so ;  and  if  I  'd 

310 


THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

had  any  strength  of  character  at  all,  I  could  have 
slain  her  with  a  look." 

She  went  upstairs  in  time  to  hear  the  last  half  of 
the  lecture,  and  comforted  herself,  that  night,  by 
thinking,  "  Well,  you  're  a  fool,  anyway,  and  you 
might  as  well  get  used  to  not  expecting  to  be  any- 
thing else !  " 

But  she  was  forced  to  be  something  quite  different 
before  the  month  was  over,  for  May  Churchill  was 
as  good,  or  as  bad,  as  her  word.  She  not  only  cut 
nearly  all  the  rehearsals,  but  encouraged  the  younger 
girls  to  do  the  same ;  and  as  Ardis  refused  either  to 
record  the  absences  or  collect  fines,  the  Glee  Club 
rapidly  verged  upon  demoralization.  Clare  stood  it 
as  long  as  she  could ;  and  then  she  informed  Ardis 
that  she  would  like  to  have  a  talk  with  her  in  some 
place  where  they  would  not  be  likely  to  be  inter- 
rupted. The  tower  stairs  were  chosen  for  the  scene 
of  the  fracas,  and  they  both  jested  about  it  pleasantly, 
as  they  toiled  up,  hand  in  hand. 

"  I  hope  you  know  what  you  're  going  to  say,**  said 
Ardis,  when  they  had  comfortably  established  them- 
selves, "  because,  if  you  don't,  you  're  pretty  sure  to 
get  rattled." 

"  Fortunately,  I  do,"  said  Clare.  "  I  wished  to 
inform  you  that  your  conduct  with  regard  to  the  Glee 
Club  is  absolutely  outrageous  and  unendurable,  and 
that  I  won't  stand  it  any  longer." 

Ardis  looked  somewhat  surprised,  but  made  no 
reply,  and  Clare  went  on :  "  As  Assistant  Leader  you 
are  a  complete  failure;  as  Manager  you  are  worse 
than  nothing.  You  cut  rehearsals  whenever  you  feel 
like  it,  and  your  influence  on  the  younger  girls  is 

3" 


hopelessly  bad.  You  are  destroying  the  old  tradi- 
tions of  law  and  order  in  the  club,  and  spoiling  what- 
ever chance  we  may  have  of  doing  any  decent  work 
this  year.  Now  I've  said  what  I  wanted  to,  and 
you  can  talk  all  the  rest  of  the  afternoon,  if  you 
like." 

Clare  had  often  wondered  how  Ardis  looked  when 
she  was  angry,  and  now  she  found  out. 

"  I  have  been  neglecting  my  duties  as  Manager,  have 
I?"  she  asked.  "Perhaps  you  may  have  forgotten 
that  you  have  taken  most  of  those  duties  out  of  my 
hands.  Everything  that  I  did,  or  tried  to  do,  you 
opposed,  and  had  voted  down  by  the  club.  Most  of 
the  things  that  it  was  my  duty  to  attend  to  you  pre- 
ferred to  manage  for  yourself.  How  in  the  world  am 
I  going  to  tell  which  part  of  my  work  you  want  me 
to  do?  You  have  left  me  so  little  that  I'm  sure 
I  don't  know  what  it  is ;  and  it  is  very  like  you  to 
blame  me  because  the  girls  have  been  cutting  re- 
hearsals. Is  it  my  fault  that  you  are  no  longer  able 
to  interest  them?  They  were  enthusiastic  over  you 
at  first,  but  every  enthusiasm  is  followed  by  a  reac- 
tion, and  now  you  attack  me  because  the  reaction 
has  come.  If  you  make  the  rehearsals  a  bore,  you 
need  n't  be  surprised  if  the  girls  stay  away." 

"  It  is  n't  that  at  all,  and  you  know  it !  "  said  Clare. 
"  May,  and  some  of  the  others,  are  mad  because  they 
were  n't  told  that  there  was  to  be  no  rehearsal  the 
night  of  the  lecture ;  and  very  likely  you  will  say  that 
you  were  not  to  blame  for  that,  either.  Well,  I  sup- 
pose you  were  n't,  for  I  ought  not  to  have  trusted  you 
in  the  first  place." 

"  I  would  n't  talk  about  *  trusting,'  if  I  were  you," 
312 


THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

said  Ardis,  rather  bitterly;  "wait  until  you  have 
proved  that  you  can  be  trusted  yourself." 

"  If  you  have  an  imaginary  grievance  against  me,  I 
do  wish  you  'd  settle  it  with  me  alone,"  said  Clare, 
desperately,  "  and  not  take  it  out  in  neglecting  my 
club." 

"  Since  this  discussion  is  likely  to  resolve  into  per- 
sonalities in  any  case,"  said  Ardis,  "  I  think  it  would 
be  a  good  time  to  explain  to  you  that  I  understand 
all  about  that  Junior-usher  committee  business  of 
last  spring.  I  understood  at  the  time ;  and  yet  you 
consider  yourself  a  friend  to  be  trusted !  Is  n't  it 
fortunate  that  the  person  who  is  in  the  wrong  always 
has  the  satisfaction  of  thinking  that  he  is  in  the 
right !  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  about  the  committee 
business,"  said  Clare.  "  I  did  n't  hear  anything  about 
it  until  after  the  girls  had  spoken  to  you.  And  then, 
too,  you  had  given  me  to  understand  that  Christine 
had  just  been  appointed.  If  there  was  any  double- 
dealing  in  the  matter,  I  don't  think  that  it  lay  on  my 
side." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  did  n't  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  it  —  that  you  did  n't  get  up  the  whole 
thing?  I  wish  I  knew  whether  to  believe — " 

"Oh,"  cried  Clare,  "you  never  doubted  my  word 
before !  But  it  does  n't  make  any  difference,"  she 
added  wearily  to  herself,  "  I  wonder  why  it  does  n't 
make  any  difference — any  more."  And  she  gripped 
her  own  hand  tightly,  to  keep  herself  from  answering 
the  question. 

"  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  about  a  new  Assistant 
Leader,"  she  said.  "  I  find  that  the  work  is  getting 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

too  hard  for  me,  and  no  doubt  you  will  be  quite  will- 
ing to  surrender  the  position  to  some  one  who  has 
more  time." 

"  If  you  appoint  a  new  Assistant  Leader  after 
promising  the  office  to  me,  I  shall  resign  from  the 
club." 

This  was  a  contingency  for  which  Clare  was  not 
prepared,  and  at  first  she  did  not  know  what  to  say. 
It  would  give  rise  to  much  unpleasant  comment  in 
the  college  if  the  Glee  Club  Manager  were  forced 
to  resign  because  she  could  not  get  along  with  the 
Leader;  and  Clare  did  not  want  her  girls  to  have 
anything  unpleasant  to  remember,  in  connection  with 
that  year.  So  far  the  trouble  between  Ardis  and 
herself  had  been  of  a  private  nature,  and  she  wished 
it  to  remain  so. 

"  If  you  put  it  in  that  way,  I  can  do  nothing,"  she 
said.  "  Of  course  you  know  that  I  will  do  nothing. 
You  have  very  little  mercy  in  you,  after  all." 

She  realized  that  it  was  quite  useless  to  continue 
the  discussion,  and  rose  to  go.  "  But  I  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  saying  some  things  to  her,"  she  thought, 
"  and  perhaps  she  '11  remember  afterwards  what  they 
were." 

But  in  thinking  it  over  afterwards,  she  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  what  she  had  said  to  Ardis  was  less 
likely  to  be  remembered  than  what  Ardis  had  said 
to  her. 

"  If  they  find  the  rehearsals  a  bore,  it  is  my  fault, 
and  I  Ve  tried  so  hard  to  make  the  work  interesting. 
I  think  it 's  too  bad." 

She  had  always  made  it  a  point  to  tell  the  girls  all 
the  funny  stories  that  she  heard,  and  encouraged 

3U 


THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

them  to  do  likewise ;  and  they  had  seemed  to  have 
very  good  times  together.  But  as  Ardis  said,  the 
rehearsals  must  have  been  growing  more  stupid,  or 
they  would  not  have  stayed  away. 

"  I  wish  I  were  a  lovable  kind  of  person,  like 
Ruth,"  she  thought,  "  or  dear  and  funny  like  Chris- 
tine, and  then  perhaps  they  would  n't  desert  me !  " 

She  took  a  piece  of  paper,  and  wrote  down  all  the 
good  qualities  that  she  thought  a  successful  Glee 
Club  Leader  ought  to  have,  — 

1.  Ability    to    transpose    and    harmonize;    sing, 
place  and  train  voices,  play  a  good  accompaniment, 
carry  four  different  parts  in  your  head  at  the  same 
time  and  not  go  crazy,  and  write  new  music  when 
necessary. 

2.  A  sense  of  humor.     ( Very  important.) 

3.  Inexhaustible  patience. 

4.  Self-control. 

5.  Steady  nerves. 

6.  The  strength  of  a  horse. 

7.  Good  Christian  principles. 

8.  Some  personal  magnetism. 

9.  Not  be  a  fool. 

(Clare's  definition  of  a  fool  was  "  to  care  too 
much  about  everything,  and  let  people  see  that  you 
do.")  Her  mouth  drooped  more  and  more,  as  she 
went  through  the  list,  crossing  out  all  the  things  that 
she  was  not.  She  knew  that  she  was  a  Christian,  as 
far  as  having  the  principles  went,  but  also  realized 
that  she  very  seldom  acted  up  to  them.  A  sense  of 
humor  she  was  certain  of,  because  she  often  suffered 
as  much  from  not  being  able  to  laugh  as  from  not 
being  able  to  cry.  And  most  of  those  musical 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

characteristics  she  had  been  born  with,  so  it  was 
not  especially  to  her  credit  that  she  possessed  them 
now ! 

Finally,  a  plan  occurred  to  her  by  which  the  Glee 
Club  could  be  apprised  of  its  misdemeanors  in  a 
way  that  would  be  both  delicate  and  effectual.  And 
the  next  day  she  wrote  "Very  important"  on  the 
notice  for  the  bulletin  board.  It  was  very  icy 
weather,  and  the  Glee  Club  girls  did  not  walk  to 
rehearsal  that  night ;  they  slid.  But  they  were  all  in 
good  humor  when  they  arrived,  because  it  had  been 
entertaining  to  watch  each  other  fall  down  on  the 
way. 

"Tired,  Honey?"  asked  Kathleen,  when  Clare 
came  into  the  room.  "  Let  me  distribute  the  music." 

Rehearsal  went  unusually  well,  and  when  it  was 
over,  the  Leader  said :  "  I  want  you  to  stay  a  few 
minutes,  and  hear  something  that  I  have  to  say  to 
you.  It  won't  take  long." 

"  We  're  going  to  get  a  blowing  up,"  whispered  a 
Sophomore  to  May  Churchill. 

"  No,  you  're  not,"  said  Clare.  "  If  you  won't 
come  to  rehearsals  out  of  respect  for  your  college 
and  honor  for  your  club,  it  is  not  likely  that  any- 
thing that  I  could  say  would  make  any  difference ! 
But  I  have  noticed  the  great  lack  of  interest  that  has 
prevailed  of  late,  and  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  we  all  need  a  rest.  I  think  that  if  we  were  not 
very  tired  and  ill,  nothing  could  blind  us  to  the  im- 
portance of  this  Glee  Club  work,  and  the  loyalty  to 
our  college  that  it  implies.  I  would  like  to  suggest 
that  we  take  a  two  weeks'  vacation  from  rehearsal, 
and  then  call  a  business  meeting  to  decide  whether 

3*6 


THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

we  care  to  continue  the  work  during  the  remainder 
of  the  year." 

There  was  a  horror-stricken  silence,  and  then  one 
girl  said  breathlessly,  "  I  've  invited  three  men  up  to 
the  March  concert." 

"  Yes,  a  number  of  people  have  asked  friends," 
said  Clare ;  "  but  it  would  be  very  easy  to  explain  to 
them  that  the  club  has  lost  interest  in  the  work,  and 
that  there  will  be  no  concert  this  year." 

"  Oh-h !  "  exclaimed  somebody  else ;  and  again 
there  was  a  silence,  which  gradually  became  fraught 
with  alarm.  Some  of  the  girls  thought  that  Clare's 
mind  had  become  unhinged  through  anxiety. 

"  There  were  the  mid-years,"  murmured  some  one 
from  the  second-alto  row. 

"  Yes ;  and  if  you  remember  rightly,  we  had  no 
rehearsals  during  the  week  in  which  the  examinations 
were  held." 

"  If  we  don't  work  pretty  hard,  we  can't  give 
the  March  concert,  can  we?"  ventured  one  of  the 
girls. 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Clare,  unconcernedly.  "  We  have  a 
reputation  to  keep  up  now,  and  of  course  we 
would  n't  want  to  have  it  said  that  we  had  deteri- 
orated since  Christmas." 

"  I  move  that  we  don't  have  any  vacation,"  said 
Kate  Dervish. 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  said  Clare,  "  but  I  think  that  I  shall 
take  a  vacation,  whether  the  rest  of  you  do  or  not. 
It 's  been  very  tiresome,  coming  down  here,  night 
after  night,  to  find  so  many  absences,  and  I  really 
feel  that  I  need  rest.  Of  course  you  are  at  liberty  to 
continue  the  rehearsals  under  the  Assistant  Leader, 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

if  you  like.     I  myself  will  meet  you  in  this  room  two 
weeks  from  to-night." 

There  seemed  nothing  more  to  be  said,  and  the 
girls  filed  out  with  troubled  faces,  casting  furtive 
glances  at  Clare  as  they  went.  Some  of  the  more 
righteous  were  bursting  with  triumph,  while  others 
suffered  distinctly  from  amusement.  Kathleen  came 
up  and  felt  of  Clare  anxiously,  on  her  way  out  of  the 
room. 

When  they  were  all  gone,  Clare  seated  herself  on 
the  table,  a  favorite  place  of  hers,  and  took  up  a  copy 
of  the  "  Musical  Courier."  May  Churchill  looked  in 
as  she  was  passing  the  door,  and  uttered  an  excla- 
mation of  disgust.  "  The  Treasurer  forgot  to  take 
back  the  benches,"  she  said  to  her  friend,  who  was 
waiting  in  the  hall.  "  Come  in  here,  Gladys,  and 
take  a  hand  with  these." 

The  two  girls  carried  back  the  benches  to  the 
music  rooms  from  which  they  had  been  taken,  and 
then  May  came  in  alone,  and  shut  the  door. 

"  I  should  think  you  'd  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  us  for 
two  weeks,"  she  said.  "  We  're  not  worth  caring 
about ! " 

"  Come  here,"  said  Clare,  holding  out  her  arms. 
"  You  may  think  I  'm  very  silly,  and  I  don't  doubt 
that  I  am ;  but  I  really  don't  see  how  I  'm  going  to 
get  along  without  you  for  two  whole  weeks ! 
I  Ve  just  been  thinking  about  it.  It  will  seem  as  if 
my  world  had  gone  out." 

"  I  Ve  been  an  ass,"  said  May,  cheerfully.  "  I 
wanted  you  to  know." 

Clare  understood  that  this  was  meant  for  an  apol- 
ogy, and  said,  "  It  was  a  horrible  misunderstanding 


THE  LEADER  OF  THE  GLEE  CLUB 

all  around  ;  but  we  '11  forget  that  it  ever  happened, — 
and  not  do  it  again !  " 

"  You  'd  better  rest  up  a  lot  in  the  next  fortnight," 
said  May,  "  and  after  that  I  '11  promise  to  make  that 
little  Gladys  Campbell  behave." 

Clare  smiled  inwardly,  but  said  :  "  That  would  help 
me  ever  so  much,  May.  I  don't  believe  we  have 
the  remotest  idea  how  much  we  influence  the  people 
that  are  around  us.  The  younger  girls  all  look  up 
to  you,  and  —  it  is  so  easy  to  want  to  be  like  the 
people  we  love  !  " 

May  flushed  suddenly,  and  turned  away.  She  was 
a  magnificent  creature,  with  blue  eyes  that  looked 
red  in  certain  lights,  and  an  abundance  of  personal 
magnetism  that  would  always  make  her  a  positive 
influence  for  right  or  wrong. 

"  It  is  n't  always  easy  for  you  to  be  good,  either, 
is  it?  "  she  asked  wistfully,  looking  at  Clare. 

"  May,  I  have  perfectly  horrible  times  with  myself, 
and  you  know  it !  " 

"  Yes,  you  wanted  to  kill  me,  fast  enough,  the 
other  night.  I  respected  you  for  it." 

"  My  only  comfort  is  to  believe  that  all  force  was 
put  into  the  world  for  good.  It  would  n't  be  sensible 
to  say,  '  Don't  meddle  with  fire,  for  fear  that  you 
will  be  burned.'  We  Ve  got  to  have  fire,  and  manage 
it  so  that  we  won't -be  burned.  But,  oh,  it's  hard! 
May,  don't  you  suppose  that  I  know?  " 

"  But  what  good  does  it  do,  about  influence  and 
all  that,  if  people  don't  know  just  how  hard  —  if 
they  don't  think  that  you  try  ?  " 

"  I  have  asked  myself  that  same  question  so  many 
times,"  said  Clare,  "  and  I  can't  —  Oh,  May,  I  do 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

believe  that  people  judge  us  for  the  direction  in 
which  we  are  struggling,  and  not  for  how  far  we 
have  gone !  " 

"I'll  be  your  prop  in  sorrow  and  disaster,"  said 
May,  crossing  the  room  with  her  usual  boyish  stride. 
"  When  in  doubt,  play  May  Churchill,  and  you  '11 
find  she  takes  the  trick.  Good-night" 

She  had  quite  forgotten  about  Gladys,  and  nearly 
fell  over  her,  as  she  sat  waiting  on  the  steps. 

"  Oh,  go  home,"  she  said  impatiently,  "  you  little 
fool !  " 

Gladys  departed  indignantly,  and  May  strolled 
down  the  concrete  walk,  gazing  absently  at  the 
oblong  light  of  the  matron's  window  in  the  Hillard. 
Then  she  stopped  short,  as  if  in  meditation. 

"  I  wonder !  "  she  said. 


320 


CHAPTER   XIX 

IN  THE   HEART   OF  MARCH 

THE  students  of  Harland  College  celebrate  St. 
Valentine's  Day  very  much  as  the  children  do, 
except  that,  after  people  grow  up,  there  is  not  so 
much  pulling  of  door-bells  and  scampering  away  to 
hide  around  corners.  There  is  a  Valentine  box  in 
every  campus  house,  and  after  supper  a  dance  or 
some  other  kind  of  entertainment,  followed  by  the 
opening  of  the  box  and  distribution  of  the  valentines. 
These  are  funny  or  pathetic,  or  both,  as  the  case 
may  be,  and  there  are  a  great  many  opportunities  of 
telling  people,  in  a  good  old-fashioned  way,  just  how 
much  you  love  them. 

The  girls  of  the  Taylor  household  did  not  have  a 
Valentine  box,  because  most  of  them  had  been  asked 
down  to  the  campus  that  evening ;  but  a  number  of 
very  nice  valentines  came  in  the  course  of  the  day. 
Christine  received  one  from  Louisa,  the  pug-dog, 
speaking  in  slighting  terms  of  her  vanished  cat,  and 
of  the  superiority  of  canine  acquaintances  in  com- 
parison with  feline.  Louisa  was  stout  and  unsatis- 
factory; her  skin  fell  in  tawny  folds  and  draperies 
about  her  useless  neck  and  waist,  and  she  was  too 
deaf  to  understand  half  the  names  you  called  her; 
but  she  had  brains. 

21  321 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

When  the  girls  first  came  to  Miss  Taylor's,  Louisa 
had  a  way  of  barking  frightfully  and  ferociously  in 
the  upper  hall  while  they  were  trying  to  study,  and 
for  many  weeks  they  restrained  their  resentment  out 
of  consideration  for  Miss  Taylor.  But  one  day  the 
crisis  came.  Christine  emerged  from  her  room  with 
wild  growlings  of  wrath  and  an  open  umbrella,  and 
Louisa  was  so  taken  by  surprise  that  she  fell  back- 
wards down  the  entire  length  of  the  stairs.  Christine 
counted  the  thumps  with  satisfaction  from  behind 
her  door,  and  knew  when  the  bottom  was  reached, 
because  she  heard  Miss  Taylor  applying  restorative 
measures  in  the  room  below. 

The  next  day  Louisa  appeared  in  the  upper  hall, 
with  a  plaster  over  one  eye,  and  barked  cheerfully 
at  Christine's  door.  It  was  evidently  a  prearranged 
plan,  for  when  the  door  flew  open,  the  dog  crouched 
grinning  and  enthusiastic  at  Christine's  feet,  with 
every  white  tooth  gleaming  cordially  in  the  dusk. 
Her  whole  canine  form  was  converted  into  one  trust- 
ful and  corpulent  wag,  which  so  touched  Christine 
that  she  sat  down  on  the  floor  and  took  Louisa  into 
her  arms.  From  that  day  forth  they  were  firm 
friends,  and  Louisa  accompanied  Christine  to  the 
basket-ball  game,  with  a  bow  of  Ninety-seven  gold  on 
her  tail.  People  mocked  at  Christine  for  allowing  her 
affections  to  be  won  through  flattery,  but  she  always 
retained  a  soft  spot  in  her  heart  for  the  deaf  old  dog ; 
and  when  she  returned  to  Harland  as  an  alumna, 
several  years  later,  the  only  tears  of  association 
that  she  shed,  were  over  the  grave  of  Louisa  in  the 
garden,  —  a  part  of  the  pathos  and  absurdity  of  those 
college  days  that  were  gone  forever. 

322 


IN  THE   HEART   OF   MARCH 

Clare's  valentines  were  mostly  flowers,  for  her 
friends  knew  how  much  she  loved  them,  and  how 
long  she  could  make  them  live,  by  dint  of  careful 
nursing  and  persuasion.  Clare  possessed  capillary 
powers  of  enjoyment,  that  stretched  out,  like  tiny 
fingers,  into  infinite  space. 

That  afternoon  she  asked  Christine  to  come  into 
her  room  for  a  little  while,  saying  that  there  was  to 
be  a  concert.  "  But  you  must  n't  tell  any  one,"  she 
added,  "  because  they  'd  laugh." 

When  Christine  went  in,  she  found  Clare  sitting 
before  a  semicircle  of  vases  and  bowls  filled  with 
flowers,  which  she  had  arranged  like  instruments  in 
a  little  orchestra. 

"  Here  are  my  first  violins,"  she  said,  pointing  to 
a  bunch  of  white  violets,  "  and  the  purple  violets 
there  on  my  right  are  the  second  violins.  Those 
daffodils  over  at  the  back  are  the  horns,  and  the  red 
carnations  are  the  cellos  and  double-basses.  The 
maiden-hair  fern  and  smilax  are  the  flute  notes  — 
look  how  delicate  and  rounded  they  are.  Sidney 
Lanier  makes  the  notes  of  his  flute  rose-colored,  but 
to  me  they  have  always  been  green.  Now  we  will 
have  the  '  Ride  of  the  Walkyrs.'  Listen,  and  see  if 
you  don't  hear  the  galloping  of  horses." 

Christine  was  familiar  with  Wagner,  and  as  she 
followed  the  movement  of  Clare's  hand,  which 
"  played  the  invisible  instrument  in  the  air,"  she 
was  sure  that  she  heard  the  beat  of  distant  hoofs. 
Nearer  and  nearer  the  Walkyrs  came,  up  through 
the  wind  and  sleet,  dashing  past  with  wild  cries  and 
sudden  flashes  of  armor,  until  the  unearthly  galloping 
grew  fainter  and  far  away.  One  tiny  shadow  of  a 

323 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

horse  in  the  clouds,  and  a  long  wake  of  scudding 
gray ;  then  nothing  but  wind  and  rain  and  darkness. 

"  That  was  magnificent,"  she  said,  as  Clare's  hand 
came  to  a  pause.  "  Your  first  violins  are  in  ex- 
cellent tune.  Do  you  know  who  sent  them  to 
you  ?  " 

"No,  do  you?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  'm  sure  that  the  girl  would  be  de- 
lighted if  she  knew  what  a  prominent  place  you  had 
given  them." 

"  I  sent  you  one  too,"  said  Clare.  "  It  was  a  verse. 
I  sat  up  last  night  after  I  was  sleepy,  and  wrote  it ; 
but  I  sha'n't  tell  you  which  one  it  was." 

"  I  did  n't  get  but  one,  so  it  is  n't  necessary.  My 
others  were  all  grinds  —  mostly  about  my  departed 
brindled  syllogism.  If  I  were  you,  I  'd  put  the 
orchestra  in  water  now.  All  performers  expect 
something  to  drink  between  the  acts." 

"  They  Ve  been  in  water  all  the  time,"  said  Clare, 
"  so  perhaps  we  ought  to  have  had  the  Rhine- 
maidens'  chorus  instead  of  the  Walkyrs.  But  was  n't 
it  a  nice  concert,  Christine  ?  " 

"  It  was  beautiful !  "  said  Christine,  warmly.  "  I 
wish  that  Stephen  could  have  heard  it." 

Clare  often  felt,  nowadays,  that  the  music  in  her 
was  growing  up,  and  it  grew  so  much  faster  than  she 
did  that  it  seemed  as  if  she  herself  must  give  way  at 
the  seams,  and  be  replaced  by  a  new  one.  But 
the  Glee  Club  was  a  continual  safety-valve  for  super- 
fluous energy  in  this  direction,  and  it  was  the  kind  of 
work  that  paid.  The  girls  had  returned  with  fresh 
enthusiasm  to  their  rehearsals,  and  were  singing 
better  than  ever  before,  better  than  they  had  ever 

324 


IN   THE   HEART   OF   MARCH 

thought  that  they  could  sing,  but  no  better  than  was 
expected  and  demanded  by  their  Leader. 

"  Whenever  we  begin  to  feel  that  there  is  any- 
thing we  can't  do,"  she  would  say,  "we  have  only 
to  remember  that  we  are  members  of  the  Harland 
Glee  Club !  " 

The  result  was  that  when  the  tickets  for  the  March 
concert  were  placed  on  sale,  every  seat  in  Assembly 
Hall  was  gone  in  less  than  an  hour.  The  next  day 
it  turned  out  that  there  would  not  be  room  in  Col- 
lege Hall  for  half  the  people  who  wanted  to  go, 
and  Ardis  obtained  the  permission  of  the  Presi- 
dent to  give  the  concert  in  the  Opera  House  down 
town. 

"  We  are  the  stuff,"  said  Kathleen  briefly,  when 
the  second  set  of  tickets  went  on  sale.  "  Single  file, 
please,"  she  added  in  one  of  her  most  characteristic 
second-alto  roars,  as  the  long  line  of  applicants,  reach- 
ing from  the  hall  downstairs,  began  to  push  towards 
the  chapel  door. 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  risk  the  life  of  one  who  is 
dear  to  me  by  intrusting  myself  to  this  rabble?" 
inquired  Christine  severely  of  Clare,  whom  she  en- 
countered in  the  German  room.  "  Author  of  all  evil, 
can  I  get  into  the  library  without  having  my  ribs 
dispersed,  or  receiving  a  punch  in  the  head  from 
that  soloist  of  yours?" 

"  You  ought  to  feel  honored  to  receive  a  punch 
from  such  a  source,"  said  Clare.  "  Come  down  to 
the  Opera  House  to-morrow,  and  hear  Kathleen  sing 
'The  Elephant  Slinger's  Dream.'  It's  never  on  the 
programme,  but  she  generally  throws  it  in  at 
rehearsals." 

325 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  The  Opera  House !  I  warn  you  I  shall  go 
absolutely  mad  if  you  get  me  onto  that  stage.  I 
shall  act  all  of  Shakespeare  and  most  of  Marlowe. 
And  you  should  just  see  me  do  the  swan  part  in 
'  Lohengrin,'  especially  that  place  where  the  swan 
falls  to  pieces.  You  would  think  it  was  a  real  bird  !  " 

"  But  I  don't  think  that  even  the  stage  is  half  so 
dramatic  as  music," 'said  Clare.  "Music  has  to  be 
dramatic  to  succeed  at  all.  It 's  got  to  have  plenty 
of  exciting  situations,  and  plot  interest,  and  murders, 
and  elopements,  and  —  jokes." 

"  What  wag's  wit  is  this  ?"  asked  Christine,  thought- 
fully. "  Have  you  done  your  Hegel  for  to-morrow?  " 

"  No,  I  was  just  going  in  to  get  the  book." 

"  I  '11  go  with  you,"  said  Christine,  with  alacrity. 
"  There  is  n't  but  one  book,  you  know." 

The  next  evening  Clare  wrote  this  letter  to  her 
mother :  — 

MY  VERY  DEAR,  —  Early  this  morning  the  frost  got  onto 
the  trees,  and  the  sunrise  got  into  the  frost,  and  I  felt  as  if 
I  should  burst  because  I  could  n't  tell  some  one  how  much 
I  liked  it.  So  I  went  downstairs  and  played  the  "  Fasch- 
ingschwank  "  as  loud  as  I  could,  for  of  course  I  thought 
the  rising-bell  had  rung.  But  it  had  n't,  and  just  as  I  was 
in  the  middle  of  that  big,  bangy  part  where  Schumann 
brings  in  the  "  Marseillaise,"  in  sailed  Miss  Taylor  in  a  fuzzy 
gray  wrapper ;  and  out  sailed  Louisa,  with  the  barks  pre- 
ceding her  faster  than  you  could  count,  and  both  of  them  in- 
formed me  that  it  was  not  yet  six  o'clock.  So  I  gathered  up 
my  scattered  chords,  and  retired ;  but  on  the  way  upstairs, 
I  overheard  Ruth  and  Christine  upbraiding  each  other  in 
their  room.  Each  one  seemed  to  think  the  other  respon- 
sible for  the  noise. 

326 


IN  THE   HEART   OF   MARCH 

Yes,  I  know  it  was  inconsiderate  of  me,  but  my  clock 
fell  down  behind  the  bookcase  last  night,  and  I  've  lost 
the  handle  off  my  umbrella,  so  I  couldn't  poke  it  out 
again. 

You  should  have  heard  our  first  rehearsal  in  the  Opera 
House  this  morning  !  Oh,  it  was — now,  Clare,  don't  you 
be  a  fool,  but  it  was,  just  the  same.  And  when  the  curtain 
went  up,  with  the  calm  majesty  that  only  a  curtain  who 
does  n't  stick  can  assume,  and  there  was  the  great  house 
full  of  shadows,  with  the  violin  stands  tossing  up  their  arms, 
like  skeletons  of  music  long  forgotten — there,  I  will  be  a 
fool  if  I  want  to.  And  the  Kerry  Dance  !  Why,  we  make 
our  own  selves  cry,  we  sing  it  with  so  much  expression.  I 
only  hope  that  the  audience  will  be  as  much  moved  as  we 
are. 

And  then  the  girls  are  so  dear ;  I  don't  believe  that  any 
Glee  Club  was  ever  half  so  dear !  They  want  me  not  to 
get  tired,  you  know,  and  save  me  in  all  kinds  of  little  ways ; 
and  it  is  n't  the  saving  that  counts  so  much  as  the  knowing 
that  they  care.  And  they  are  enthusiastic,  and  just  exactly 
right,  and,  oh,  I  love  them,  I  love  them  !  Yes,  I  'm  studying 
hard  too.  It  is  n't  all  Glee  Club,  although  my  letters  have 
been  pretty  full  of  it  lately. 

Another  new  song  came  walking  into  my  room  last  night, 
and  sat  down.  Of  course  I  was  terribly  busy,  but  did  n't 
want  to  seem  inhospitable,  so  I  said,  "  Just  wait  until  after 
the  concert,  and  I  '11  write  you  out,  but  I  really  can't 
attend  to  you  now."  And  it  said,  "  I  refuse  to  be  put  off," 
and  chased  me  all  over  the  college.  And  yesterday  after- 
noon it  dragged  me  up  and  down  stairs  by  the  hair,  and 
fired  things  on  top  of  me  until  I  gave  in  and  wrote  it  all 
out.  And  here  I  am  now,  with  lessons  unlearned,  and  a  feel- 
ing of  resentment  against  all  my  friends.  People  say,  "  Don't 
you  enjoy  writing  music?  "  Oh,  oh,  don't  I !  What  a  hor- 

327 


ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

ribly  egotistic  old  letter  !  But  you  're  the  only  one  in  the 
world  that  I  can  talk  to  like  this,  so  you  ought  not  to  mind, 
being  all  that  I  have,  you  know. 

Your  own  little  ~ 

CLARE. 

P.  S.  Doesn't  it  make  you  wild  to  think  of  our  Ethel 
being  a  Mrs.  anybody? 

P.  S.  I  upset  the  ink-bottle  down  the  front  of  my  new 
skirt,  but  I  don't  think  that  it  will  hurt  it  very  much,  and 
Christine  gave  me  some  more  ink. 

The  day  of  the  concert  came  at  last,  and  Clare 
spent  the  afternoon  on  her  bed,  rolled  up  in  a  steamer 
rug,  with  a  "  Please  don't  disturb "  sign  out,  and 
Christine  on  guard  in  the  hall.  She  heard  carriages 
dashing  up  from  the  station,  and  the  voices  of  men 
and  girls,  as  they  went  laughing  past  the  house. 
Somebody  came  upstairs  and  said,  "  Every  flower  in 
the  town  has  been  sold,  and  they  say  that  all  the 
carriages  have  been  engaged  for  to-night." 

Christine  said,  "  Hush  !  " 

At  five  o'clock  the  front  door  slammed,  and  the 
maid  called  up  softly :  "  May  I  take  these  flowers  up 
to  Miss  Deland  now?  There's  five  boxes  of  'em, 
and  they  litter  up  —  " 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Christine  again. 

"  Oh,  I  wonder  if  they  're  violets,"  Clare  thought, 
sitting  up  in  bed.  "  I  wish  I  could  go  to  sleep." 

The  light  in  the  room  grew  dimmer,  and  then  went 
out.  Some  one  came  and  listened  at  the  door,  and 
Clare  said  to  herself,  "  Shame  on  you,  not  to  be 
asleep !  " 

To  tell  the  truth,  she  was  suffering  from  a  violent 
and  unprecedented  attack  of  stage  fright.  "  I  feel  as 

328 


IN  THE   HEART  OF  MARCH 

if  a  barn  were  sitting  on  me,"  she  thought.  "  You  'd 
better  go  away,  barn ! "  For  she  realized  that  she 
must  not  let  the  Glee  Club  know  that  she  was 
nervous. 

"  This  is  what  people  have  talked  about  before, 
and  I  never  understood,"  she  thought.  "  It  goes  to 
your  knees,  and  makes  them  feel  as  if  they  were  n't 
there,  and  it  loosens  all  the  muscles  of  your  teeth." 

Ruth  and  Christine  dressed  her  for  the  concert, 
all  in  white  with  bunches  of  lilies  of  the  valley  at  her 
neck  and  shoulders ;  and  the  housekeeper  and  maids 
and  even  the  cook  came  up  to  look  at  her  before  she 
started.  Everybody  in  the  house  was  going  to  the 
concert,  except  Miss  Taylor  and  Louisa,  who  had 
gone  to  take  tea  with  a  relative  in  the  country. 

"  You  ain't  scared,  be  you,  Miss  Deland?  "  inquired 
one  of  the  maids,  observing  that  she  was  unusually 
pale. 

"  No  ! "  answered  Clare,  sternly,  and  then  wondered 
where  the  voice  had  come  from. 

When  they  reached  the  Opera  House,  she  slipped 
on  to  the  stage,  to  try  over  the  hardest  accompani- 
ment once  more,  and  one  of  the  ushers  said,  "You 
are  not  nervous,  are  you,  Miss  Deland?" 

"  No !  "  answered  Clare,  with  such  violence  that 
the  usher  retreated  in  alarm. 

But  when  the  audience  began  to  arrive,  Clare  was 
obliged  to  give  all  her  attention  to  the  Glee  Club 
girls,  who  were  so  enchanted  with  the  spectacle  that 
they  persisted  in  thrusting  out  their  heads,  so  that 
they  could  be  seen  from  the  house.  They  also 
scraped  acquaintance  with  the  men  who  managed 
the  lights,  and  found  out  what  you  did  when  you 

329 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

wanted  the  performers  to  look  purple  or  green. 
Clare  did  not  dare  look  at  the  audience  until  after 
the  first  few  numbers,  and  then  she  thought  that  she 
had  never  seen  anything  so  pretty  in  her  life. 
Twelve  hundred  people  in  evening  dress,  and  not 
more  than  fifty  of  them  over  twenty-three  years  old  ! 
And  their  enthusiasm  was  enough  to  make  a  Leader 
feel  comfortable  down  to  the  tips  of  her  toes,  for  the 
representatives  from  other  college  Glee  Clubs  — 
Harvard,  Princeton,  and  Yale  —  understood  how  to 
give  the  right  kind  of  applause,  and  labored  manfully, 
hand  and  foot. 

Her  attention  was  distracted  by  a  slight  commo- 
tion in  the  house,  caused  by  Kathleen  Carey,  who 
had  turned  the  green  lights  on  the  Banjo  Club.  The 
effect  for  a  minute  was  ghastly,  and  then,  before  the 
unhappy  performers  had  recovered  from  the  shock, 
they  appeared  twanging  luridly  in  a  violent  glare  of 
red.  Clare  managed  to  get  across  the  stage  and 
pluck  Kathleen  from  her  sinful  occupation  before 
anything  else  could  happen ;  but  when  the  Banjo 
Club  came  off  the  stage,  Beatrice  Adams  presented 
the  other  Leader  with  a  distinctly  unmitigated  piece 
of  her  mind.  She  might  not  have  been  so  severe,  if 
Clare  had  not  laughed;  but  Clare  did  laugh,  even 
while  she  was  assuring  Beatrice  of  her  mortification 
that  such  a  catastrophe  should  have  taken  place. 

"  Talk  about  ruling  by  love  alone,"  said  the  Leader 
of  the  Banjos,  indignantly.  "  What  that  Glee  Club 
needs  is  a  right  good  trouncing !  "  And  they  got  it 
before  the  evening  was  over. 

Clare's  stage  fright  had  gradually  abated  by  the 
time  that  the  intermission  came,  and  she  was  begin- 

330 


IN  THE   HEART  OF   MARCH 

ning  to  feel  that  the  Fates  might  be  propitious  during 
the  rest  of  the  programme.  But  the  Fates  had  evi- 
dently decreed  that  the  illumination  of  the  Banjo 
Club  should  be  avenged. 

When  she  and  Ardis  started  to  go  down  into  the 
house  to  receive  the  sympathy  and  encouragement 
of  their  friends,  they  encountered  Ethel  Lindsay  at 
the  stage  door. 

"  Oh,  Clare,"  she  began,  "  I  think  it 's  a  perfect 
shame  that  the  girls  are  n't  doing  any  better  to-night. 
I  never  heard  them  sing  so  badly  —  and  after  you  've 
worked  so  hard  too  !  " 

Clare  had  always  placed  implicit  faith  in  Miss 
Lindsay's  musical  criticism,  and  this  sudden  attack 
quite  took  her  breath  away. 

"  What  —  what  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked,  rather 
tremulously. 

"Why,  they're  singing  abominably  —  that's  what 
I  mean,  and  I  don't  believe  it's  your  fault,  either. 
It's  simply  because  they're  not  trying.  I  always 
told  you  that  you  would  n't  be  able  to  do  anything 
with  them,  unless  you  were  more  severe." 

Clare  looked  to  Ardis  for  support  in  this  unhappy 
emergency,  but  none  came. 

"  So  you,  too,  consider  the  concert  a  failure?  "  she 
asked ;  and  when  there  was  no  answer,  she  realized 
that  Ardis  had  deserted  her  again.  She  was  too 
young  to  appreciate  the  fact  that  Miss  Lindsay 
might  possibly  be  wrong,  and  far  too  tired  to  bring 
any  reserve  strength  to  bear  upon  the  matter.  So 
she  simply  turned  around,  and  went  back  to  the 
stage,  and  sank  down  quite  hopelessly  in  an  imi- 
tation rustic  chair,  with  hard,  imitation  ivy  leaves 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

that  hurt  her  face  when  it  was  pressed  against 
them. 

Outside,  in  the  audience,  the  laughter  and  congratu- 
lations went  on.  Then  somebody  asked,  "  Where 's 
Clare?"  and  Christine  went  to  find  her. 

"Why  don't  you  come  out?"  she  demanded,  when 
she  caught  sight  of  the  dreary  little  figure  in  the  rus- 
tic chair.  "  Everybody  's  asking  for  you,  and  the 
other  girls  are  getting  all  your  compliments." 

"Where's  Clare?"  asked  Ruth,  opening  the  stage 
door  and  shutting  it  again  in  the  face  of  a  Wyckham 
Freshman,  whose  low  mutterings  died  away  into 
wrathful  silence. 

"  Why  does  n't  somebody  bring  her  out?  "  inquired 
Professor  Burton,  appearing  from  the  other  side  of 
the  stage. 

Clare  found  it  impossible  to  explain,  in  the  face  of 
such  a  multitude,  and  fled  into  one  of  the  dressing- 
rooms,  where  she  was  presently  joined  by  Christine. 

"  Now,  who 's  been  saying  ridiculous  things  to 
you  ? "  she  asked,  taking  Clare  into  her  arms ;  and 
this  unusual  demonstration  made  Clare  feel  better 
immediately.  She  told  Christine  who  had  been  say- 
ing ridiculous  things  to  her,  and  said  that  she  knew 
she  had  disgraced  the  college.  Ethel  Lindsay  was  a 
reliable  musical  critic,  and  very  likely  Clare's  own 
fondness  for  the  Glee  Club  had  blinded  her  eyes  — 
or  ears  —  to  their  real  failings. 

"  Where  did  that  girl  sit?  "  asked  Christine,  fiercely. 

"  On  me,  principally.     I  have  n't  recovered  yet." 

"  And  you  intend  to  take  the  judgment  of  that  one 
person  against  the  enthusiasm  of  an  entire  audience? 
Why,  don't  you  know,  you  little  goose,  they're 

332 


IN   THE    HEART   OF    MARCH 

saying  that  they  never  heard  a  Glee  Club  sing  like  this, 
—  that  it 's  wonderful,  marvellous,  and  things  of 
that  sort  Clare,  I  should  think  you  'd  have  more 
backbone !  " 

"That's  just  the  trouble  at  present.  I  haven't 
any  backbone.  You  see  my  spiritual  strength  is 
entirely  dependent  on  cod-liver  oil,  and  I  Ve  forgotten 
to  take  it  lately.  I  have  n't  even  been  able  to  appre- 
ciate my  own  jokes,  and  that  shows  that  I  'm  pretty 
far  gone." 

"  You  see  if  she  does  n't  go  home  in  detachments 
to-night,"  said  Christine,  between  her  teeth.  "  But, 
Clare,"  she  added  gravely,  "  I  should  n't  like  to  be 
dependent  for  spiritual  strength  on  something  that  I 
could  n't  swallow !  " 

The  ten  minutes'  intermission  was  over,  and  the 
girls  began  to  come  back  to  the  stage.  Clare  heard 
them  gathering  in  the  "  green-room,"  ready  for  the 
second  half  of  the  programme,  and  the  color  left  her 
face. 

"  I  'm  stage-frightened,  Christine,"  she  said,  breath- 
lessly. "  Really,  it  takes  the  stiffening  out  of  you,  a 
thing  like  that.  You  see  it  was  the  first  criticism  of 
any  kind  that  I  'd  heard." 

"  Professor  Burton  says  that  this  is  the  most  suc- 
cessful affair  of  the  kind  that  has  ever  been  given 
at  the  college,"  said  Christine,  encouragingly;  but 
Clare  made  no  reply. 

"  Come,  brace  up,"  said  Christine,  looking  a  little 
anxious ;  "  you  must  n't  let  yourself  give  way  like 
this.  Don't  you  know  that  you  Ve  got  to  be  an 
honor  to  your  college  to-night ;  that  we  're  looking 
to  you  as  the  one  who  will  bring  new  glory  to  our 

333 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

class,  who  will  be  brave  and  true  and  strong, 
because  of  Ninety-five?  " 

Clare  did  not  answer,  and  Christine  opened  the 
door.  "  Come  in  here,  Kathleen,"  she  called.  "  Help 
me  fill  these  glasses  from  the  spigot;  we  want  to  drink 
to  the  health  of  Ninety-five." 

"  To  the  finest  class  alive  !  "  said  Kathleen,  waving 
her  glass  at  a  perilous  angle  over  Clare's  head,  "  from 
which  may  I  never  transplant  my  personality." 

"  Come,  Clare,"  said  Christine,  with  a  clink  of 
glasses,  "  To  the  finest  class  alive  !  " 

"That  was  a  good  thing  to  mention,"  said  Clare, 
setting  down  the  empty  tumbler.  "  Of  course 
we  must  not  be  cowards,  —  we  that  wear  the 


She  motioned  to  Kathleen  to  follow  her,  but  before 
they  reached  the  Glee  Club  the  sound  of  vitupera- 
tion came  to  their  ears. 

"  I  see  a  voice  !  "  exclaimed  Kathleen,  dramatically. 
"  '  Now  will  I  to  the  chink  to  spy,  and  I  can  hear  my 
Ethel's  face.'  " 

"  Stop !  "  said  Clare,  with  a  frantic  clutch.  "  It 
can't  be  that  Ethel  Lindsay —  " 

But  it  was.  She  had  kindly  consented  to  oblige 
the  Manager  by  giving  "  a  little  informal  talk  to  the 
Glee  Club." 

"You  don't  do  credit  to  your  training,  those  of 
you  who  were  on  the  club  in  Ninety-three,"  she  was 
saying,  "  and  the  rest  of  you  do  such  careless  work 
that  you  can't  even  keep  together.  You  take  advan- 
tage of  your  Leader  —  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  interrupted  Clare,  "  but  I 
don't  think  that  any  one  of  them  would  take  advan- 

334 


IN  THE   HEART   OF   MARCH 

tage  of  my  absence  to  say  things  that  they  would  not 
dare  to  say  if  I  were  here !  " 

"  Is  that  the  way  you  acknowledge  Miss  Lindsay's 
kindness?"  asked  Ardis,  looking  exceedingly  dis- 
pleased. 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  rude,"  said  Clare ;  "  so  per- 
haps it  would  be  as  well  to  explain  to  Ethel  that 
what  my  club  does,  and  the  way  it  sings,  lies  en- 
tirely between  the  girls  and  me.  We  understand 
each  other  very  well,  and  do  not  need  any  discipline 
from  outside." 

"  And  we  Ve  heard  from  the  front  of  the  house 
and  the  middle  of  the  house  and  the  back  of  the 
house,"  muttered  Kathleen,  explosively,  "  and  if  you 
sat  anywhere  else,  you  can  go  chase  your  grand- 
mother." 

"  Hush,  Kathleen  !  "  said  Clare. 
1 "  Contemptible     peanut !  "     continued      Kathleen, 
squaring  up  to  Ethel  in  a  pugilistic  fashion.     "  Only 
grant   me   the   obvious   pleasure    of  cracking    your 
invidious  shell." 

"  Kathleen,  you  're  a  disgrace  to  the  club,"  said 
Ardis,  angrily. 

"  '  If  an  ass  kicks  me,  ought  I  to  resent  it? '"  quoted 
Kathleen,  with  a  bow. 

An  impatient  round  of  applause  from  the  house 
reminded  the  girls  that  the  intermission  had  been 
very  long,  and  Clare  said  quietly,  "  Come  !  " 

Before  the  last  half  of  the  programne  was  over,  the 
audience  had  gone  wild,  and  people  said,  "  That 
Leader's  head  will  be  turned  by  all  this.  I  don't 
believe  that  any  girl  could  stand  it."  Poor  Clare ! 

After  the  concert   May  Churchill  said  to  Ardis, 
335 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Come  over  to  the  Hutcheson  some  time  to-morrow 
evening.  I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you." 

Ardis  and  May  had  spent  one  year  at  the  same 
preparatory  school  before  coming  to  college,  and 
although  they  had  seen  very  little  of  each  other 
since  then,  Ardis  felt  that  May  was  still  her  friend. 
She  had  worked  very  hard  to  make  Ardis  Leader  of 
the  Glee  Club,  and  had  therefore  begun  the  year  with 
a  certain  amount  of  antagonism  against  Clare.  Ardis 
remembered  this,  as  she  pushed  open  the  swinging 
door  on  the  second  floor  of  the  new  dormitory, 
"  Hutcheson,"  and  walked  slowly  down  the  long  hall. 
She  found  May  tilted  back  in  a  rocking-chair  against 
her  bed,  smoking  a  cigarette,  and  making  some  pre- 
tence at  copying  an  omitted  lecture  from  the  note- 
book of  a  friend. 

"  Have  one?  "  she  asked,  with  a  lordly  flourish  of 
the  arm  towards  the  cigarette-box  on  her  desk. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  said  Ardis,  turning  away  in 
some  disgust. 

"You  used  to,"  said  May,  with  a  broad  grin. 
"What's  come  over  you  in  the  last  two  years? 
Reformed?" 

Ardis  declined  to  reply. 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  remember  who  gave  me  the 
first  one,  then  ?  "  continued  May. 

"If  that's  all  that  you  wanted  to  talk  about  — " 
began  Ardis,  impatiently. 

"  It  was  not,"  replied  May,  rocking  her  chair  for- 
ward with  a  determined  thump.  "  I  wanted  to  tell 
you  that  you  'd  better  let  Clare  Deland  alone." 

"  Why  don't  you  let  her  alone  yourself  ?  You 
only  make  a  mess  of  things  when  you  interfere. 

336 


IN  THE   HEART   OF   MARCH 

And  besides,  what  do  you  expect  to  get  out  of  it? 
You  can't  persuade  me  that  you  have  developed  a 
disinterested  affection  for  Clare." 

"  I  would  n't  try  to  persuade  you,  if  it  was  n't 
true,  because  you  haven't  the  necessary  capacity 
for  containing  so  large  a  lie.  If  you  try  to  pour  a 
three-quart  lie  into  a  two-gill  measure,  some  of  it  is 
pretty  sure  to  slop  over  on  to  the  floor.  It  can't  all 
be  believed." 

"  You  might  believe  some  of  it  to-day,  and  the 
rest  to-morrow,"  said  Ardis,  smiling. 

"  You  're  trying  to  digress,"  replied  May,  screwing 
the  lighted  end  of  her  cigarette  through  a  piece  of 
paper.  "  What  I  want  you  to  do  is  to  have  a  new 
Assistant  Leader  appointed  the  first  thing  next  term." 

"  We  don't  need  but  one." 

"  We  have  n't  that !  And  besides,  it 's  unconstitu- 
tional for  the  same  person  to  hold  two  such  impor- 
tant offices  at  a  time,  especially  when  that  person 
does  not  fulfil  the  duties  of  either." 

"  Do  you  know  that  I  could  have  you  put  off  the 
club  for  speaking  to  me  like  that  ? "  asked  Ardis, 
quietly. 

"  You  might  have,  before  last  night ;  but  now 
they  're  so  down  on  you  that  you  would  n't  stand 
any  show  at  all.  That 's  why  I  deferred  my  con- 
versation until  to-day." 

"  If  it  was  nothing  of  any  more  importance  than 
that,  I  think  that  I  can  dispense  with  your  society," 
said  Ardis,  turning  to  the  door. 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  said  May,  without  looking 
around.  "  What  I  wanted  to  say  was,  that  if  you 
don't  see  about  that  Assistant  business  pretty  soon, 
22  337 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

I  shall  tell  the  whole  Glee  Club  about  that  little 
editorial  affair  of  yours." 

Ardis  took  her  hand  from  the  door,  and  noticed 
that  the  fingers  trembled  slightly. 

"  I  must  be  tired,"  she  thought  with  a  smile. 

"  You  need  n't  think  I  don't  know  about  it,"  con- 
tinued May.  "  I  know  all  about  everything  that 
concerns  you.  But  I  think  that,  with  the  exception 
of  Faith  Bentley  and  a  few  of  the  Ninety-four  editors, 
I  'm  the  only  girl  who  does  know." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  that  you  think  you  know  ?  " 
asked  Ardis  with  an  unexpected  quiver  in  her  voice. 
"  I  must  be  very  tired,"  she  thought. 

"  Oh,  I  know  any  number  of  things,"  said  May, 
amiably.  "  I  have  discovered,  for  one,  what  kind 
of  a  girl  Clare  Deland  really  is.  She 's  just  as  much 
of  a  firebrand  as  the  rest  of  us,  but  she  has  prin- 
ciples, so  she  keeps  trying  to  put  herself  out;  and 
that  makes  her  in  a  violent  state  of  sizzle  all  the 
time.  It 's  the  sizzle  in  her  that  gets  into  her  play- 
ing and  makes  the  shivers  go  meandering  down 
your  spine  when  you  hear  her,  and  causes  your  toes 
to  snap.  And  when  she  talks  to  you  about  being 
good,  she  really  is  n't  talking  to  you  at  all,  but  to 
herself;  and  I  wish  to  God  that  I  'd  had  a  friend 
like  her  at  just  the  time  when  I  ought  not  to  have 
had  a  friend  like  you  !  " 

"  Why  have  n't  you  stated  your  exhaustive  knowl- 
edge of  Clare  and  myself  to  the  world  at  large  ? 
I  did  not  suppose  that  you  had  ever  refrained  from 
telling  anything  that  you  knew." 

"  I  '11  tell  you  why,"  said  May,  throwing  down  her 
cigarette.  "  It 's  because  I  was  fool  enough  to  still 

338 


IN  THE   HEART   OF   MARCH 

care  for  you  ;  that 's  why.  It  was  because  I  remem- 
bered the  old  days  when  we  used  to  be  friends,  — 
when  I  thought  you  were  everything  that  was  per- 
fect, and  believed  that  you  would  be  my  friend 
always  —  and  help  me  to  be  good." 

Ardis  had  turned  very  pale. 

"  You  've  burned  a  suspiciously  round  hole  in  that 
bed-spread,"  she  said  quietly. 

May's  eyes  flashed,  and  she  rose  to  her  feet. 
"  Clare  told  me  once  that  it  is  natural  for  us  to  want 
to  be  like  the  people  that  we  love.  Do  you  under- 
stand what  that  means  ?  Do  you  know  that  an  older 
girl  can  sometimes  change  the  whole  life  of  a  younger, 
by  the  way  that  she  looks  and  thinks  and  feels? 
Do  you  know  what  it  means  for  one  person  to  have 
absolute  faith  in  another?  No,  you  don't,  because 
you  have  n't  any  faith  in  you !  And  after  you  had 
upset  all  my  philosophy,  and  laughed  me  out  of 
my  poor  little  '  Now-I-lay-me '  habit  of  saying  my 
prayers,  you  threw  me  over  entirely,  and  left  me 
to  shift  for  myself." 

"  May,"  said  Ardis,  unsteadily,  "  you  must  remem- 
ber —  it  was  different  with  me  —  from  what  it  was 
with  other  girls.  I  never  had  any  chance." 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said 
May.  "You're  not  the  only  person  whose  mother 
died  when  —  " 

"  Don't  speak  to  me  of  my  mother  !  "  cried  Ardis, 
quickly ;  and  May  stopped,  touched  by  the  sudden 
break  of  pain  in  the  girl's  voice. 

"  Then  if,  as  you  say,  you  never  had  any  chance, 
did  that  make  you  determine  that  nobody  else 
should  have  one?  " 

339 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  No,"  exclaimed  Ardis,  facing  her  suddenly.  "  I 
was  young  and  in  the  wrong,  but  I  never  meant  to 
harm  you.  I  outgrew  myself,  and  outgrew  you  as  a 
part  of  that  self  that  I  wished  to  forget.  I  wanted 
to  forget!  I  wanted  to  be  different.  But  there  is 
no  mercy  in  this  world  for  the  people  who  make 
mistakes.  Every  one  expects  you  to  do  the  same 
thing  over  again,  and  watches  eagerly  to  see  if  you 
won't.  And  the  combination  of  so  many  wills  is 
sure  to  influence  yours.  '  Give  a  dog  a  bad  name 
and  hang  him,'  means  to  give  him  the  name  and 
then  drive  him  into  hanging  himself.  It  would  be  a 
great  deal  simpler  to  hang  him  in  the  beginning. 
But  people  don't  ever  seem  to  think  we  are  sorry  for 
what  we  do.  Oh,  people  are  merciless !  There 
ought  to  be  a  God." 

"  To  swear  by,  anyhow,"  said  May.  "  By  the  way, 
are  you  going  to  see  about  that  Assistant  Leader 
business?  " 

"  No,  I  'm  not." 

"  Then  you  don't  mind  my  telling  —  " 

"  You  can  tell  what  you  like  and  to  whom  you  like. 
If  the  story  is  believed,  it  will  be  a  relief  to  be  stoned 
by  people  for  whom  I  have  some  respect,  instead  of 
by  myself  and  you." 

"  You  have  some  pluck,"  said  May,  approvingly. 
"  Ardis,  you  're  such  a  horrible  combination  of  good 
and  bad  qualities  that  it 's  like  playing  at  hide-and- 
seek  to  find  out  what  you  really  are." 

"  I  'm  tired,"  said  Ardis,  pitifully. 

"  Heavens  and  earth !  I  should  think  you  were. 
Here,  sit  down  here  a  minute.  No,  don't  try  to  talk. 
Oh,  Ardis,"  she  cried,  burying  her  face  in  her  friend's 

340 


IN  THE   HEART   OF   MARCH 

lap,  "  I  did  n't  think  it  would  hurt  you  so  much.  I 
did  n't  know  —  I  did  n't  understand." 

Ardis  turned  her  white  face  towards  the  window, 
and  did  not  speak.  A  warm  wind,  smelling  faintly 
of  spring,  stirred  the  curtain  now  and  then,  but  for  a 
long  while  that  was  the  only  sound  in  the  room. 
Then  Ardis  lifted  May's  head  from  her  lap,  kissed 
her  on  the  forehead,  and  went  downstairs. 

The  next  day  the  sound  of  coming  flowers  had 
gone  from  the  wind,  and  the  sky  had  retreated  into 
itself.  A  few  tiny  snow-flakes  began  to  wander  aim- 
lessly through  the  air,  as  if  searching  for  something 
to  do,  and  these  were  followed  by  others  whose  mis- 
sion was  more  obvious.  Two  days  later  the  world 
of  Harland  was  one  dazzle  of  white  and  blue,  and 
rumors  spread  through  chapel  that  the  lake  was 
again  in  a  condition  for  skating.  By  four  o'clock  as 
much  of  the  college  as  had  learned  its  lessons  was 
flying  joyously  around  on  the  ice,  with  frequent  col- 
lisions, and  exchange  of  frost-bitten  pleasantries 
through  the  bracing  air. 

Kathleen  and  her  friend,  Mary  Donnelly,  '97,  were 
having  a  race,  thereby  causing  consternation  among 
the  beginners  who  were  staggering  in  their  path. 
Christine  had  persuaded  Clare  to  come  out,  and  was 
rewarded  by  seeing  the  color  gradually  come  back 
to  her  face. 

"  Now,  don't  you  feel  less  vindictive,  on  the  whole?  " 
she  asked,  as  they  wound  up  with  a  magnificent  slide 
towards  the  skate-house. 

"  Yes,"  said  Clare.  "  I  'm  sorry  that  I  said  every- 
body I  know  is  a  fool." 

"  But  you  stood  up  for  Ethel  Lindsay,  though,  and 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

said  that  she  did  n't  mean  to  be  unkind.     A  speech 
like  that  would  naturally  be  followed  by  a  relapse." 

"But  I'm  sure  she  didn't  mean  to  be  unkind. 
She  has  always  been  my  friend,  and  even  helped  to 
get  me  the  Leadership.  I  insist  that  she  did  n't 
mean  to  be  unkind  !  " 

"You  neglect  your  opportunities  in  the  way  of 
rage.  I  myself  was  furious  with  every  one  in  the 
house,  including  that  beardless  supe  with  the  little 
Derby  hat  over  one  ear." 

"  I  feel  as  if  we  ought  not  to  mind  anything,  as 
long  as  it  went  off  well,"  said  Clare.  "  Leaders 
always  realize  that  but  for  the  kindness  of  Provi- 
dence the  most  awful,  unutterable  things  may 
happen." 

"  I  don't  know  what  else  you  'd  call  Miss  Lindsay  ! 
But,  Clare,  you  are  wonderfully  optimistic  for  a  per- 
son who 's  always  getting  sick.  I  believe  that  I 
should  swear." 

"  I  think  that  optimism  is  the  only  rational  doc- 
trine —  that 's  why.  You  have  to  see  the  bad  side  of 
things  anyway,  and  if  you  can  see  the  good  too,  why, 
that  shows  that  you  're  just  so  much  more  broad- 
minded." 

The  snow  talked  cheerfully  under  their  feet,  as 
they  walked  up  College  Lane,  and  turned  in  at  the 
campus  gate.  A  golden  light  crept  on  ahead  of 
them  over  the  white  slopes,  and  they  stopped  to 
look  back  at  the  three  little  sunset  pictures  framed 
in  by  the  windows  of  the  factory  tower. 

"  Talk  about  crying  over  spilt  milk,"  said  Christine, 
moodily.  "  We  have  a  perfect  right  to,  when  it  turns 
sour  on  the  floor  !  " 

342 


IN  THE  HEART   OF   MARCH 

"  Christine,"  asked  Clare,  slowly,  "  were  you  ever 
disappointed  in  any  one  that  you  cared  very  much 
about?" 

"  Once,"  said  Christine,  after  a  pause. 

"  Do  you  think  that  any  one  who  really  cared  for 
you  would  be  willing  to  let  other  people  attack  you, 
even  if  she  herself  often  did?  " 

"  My  standards  of  friendship  are  all  gone  to  pieces, 
so  I  'm  not  a  good  person  to  consult." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  n't  any  friends 
left  whom  you  can  trust?" 

Christine  solemnly  drew  off  her  glove,  held  up 
two  fingers  of  one  hand,  and  put  the  glove  on  again. 

"  One  of  them  is  Ruth,"  said  Clare,  pathetically, 
"  and  of  course  the  other  must  be  Ardis;  so  I  don't 
see  where  — ' 

"  It  is  n't  Ardis,"  interrupted  Christine. 

"  Then  it  must  be  me." 

"  It  is." 

Clare  looked  thoroughly  mystified. 

"  But  about  Ardis  —  it  can't  be  that  all  your  little 
disagreements  with  her  have  led  to  anything  as  seri- 
ous as  this." 

"  Perhaps  I  'm  hard  to  get  along  with." 

"That's  evading  the  question.  I  see  you  don't 
want  to  tell  me ;  but  sometimes  —  Christine,  I  wish 
you  would  tell  me,  I'm  so  —  "  She  broke  off  sud- 
denly, feeling  that  she  had  stumbled  upon  dangerous 
ground. 

"  If  Ardis  has  ever  hurt  you,"  she  said,  "  I  know 
that  it  must  have  been  unintentional,  because  she 
loves  you  dearly.  In  fact,  I  believe  you  're  the  only 
person  in  college  that  she  does  love." 

343 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Oh,  Clare,  you  don't  know  what  you  're  talking 
about." 

"I  don't  often,  I  admit;  but  to-day  I  do.  I  know 
that  Ardis  loves  you." 

"  And  I  know  that  she  does  not.  But  please  don't 
ask  me  how  or  why  I  know,  because  I  shall  never 
tell  you."  She  turned  her  face  away,  and  Clare  saw 
that  she  was  very  pale. 

"  Christine  !  "  she  said  under  her  breath ;  and  then 
all  of  a  sudden  the  truth  flashed  upon  her. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you?  "  asked  Christine. 

"  Oh,  nothing  —  go  home.  I  mean,  don't  wait  for 
me.  I  think  I  '11  stay  out  till  supper-time." 

"Is  it  another  song?"  inquired  Christine,  sympa- 
thetically, for  Clare  had  been  "  taken  that  way  "  be- 
fore. "  I  suppose  she  did  n't  even  hear  me,"  she 
thought  with  a  smile,  as  she  went  on  up  the  icy  path, 

Clare  stayed  behind  on  the  Observatory  steps,  and 
watched  the  three  tower  pictures  until  their  light 
was  only  a  faint  yellow  glimmer  against  the  sky. 
She  could  still  hear  the  sound  of  distant  laughter 
from  girls  coming  home  through  College  Lane.  A 
Freshman,  accompanied  by  a  Wyckham  friend,  went 
by  with  a  merry  clash  of  skates,  and  both  greeted  her 
enthusiastically  as  they  passed.  Clare  did  not  know 
the  girl,  but  a  Freshman  is  never  afraid  to  bow  to  a 
Senior  when  that  Freshman  is  reinforced  by  a  man. 

The  supper-bell  rang  in  the  Hadley,  and  somebody 
upstairs  threw  open  her  window  to  close  the  blinds. 
Clare  had  a  momentary  glimpse  of  bright  curtains 
and  pictures,  and  a  bowl  of  violets  somewhere, 
before  the  shutters  were  slammed  to.  Then  she  rose 
and  walked  home. 

344 


IN  THE   HEART  OF   MARCH 

"Sometimes  you  can't  forgive  people,"  she 
thought;  "sometimes  you  have  had  to  bear  too 
much.  And  yet  I  promised  to  stand  by  her  '  unto 
death.' " 

There  are  times  when  we  are  too  tired  to  engage 
in  any  moral  struggle,  no  matter  how  small ;  when 
we  can  only  stand  with  face  towards  the  sky  where 
the  sun  has  been  —  and  wait  for  another  day ! 


345 


CHAPTER   XX 

TRYING  FOR  DRAMATICS 

ELIZABETH  DANE  was  sitting  alone  in  the  editors' 
room  of  the  old  Gym,  looking  at  the  back  door  of 
the  Warren  House  opposite,  and  trying  to  get 
inspiration. 

It  was  Saturday  afternoon,  and  the  day  was  full 
of  the  early  spring;  soft  calls,  and  bird  notes,  and 
sunshine  drifted  in  through  the  open  window.  Then 
something  else  followed. 

"Here  are  the  proofs,"  said  Rachel  Winter, 
vaulting  in  after  them.  "There  they  are,  right 
under  your  foot,  and  Mr.  Ball  says  he  wants  the 
editorial  right  away." 

"I  only  hope  he  may  get  it,"  said  Elizabeth, 
wearily.  "  I  've  already  spent  two  hours  reading 
copy  for  the  Contributors'  Club.  You  did  n't  happen 
to  see  Ardis  anywhere  around,  did  you? " 

"No;  she  .  generally  keeps  out  of  sight  when 
there 's  anything  to  be  done." 

"Well,  did  you  remember  to  tell  them  that  the 
word  they  couldn't  read  in  the  leader  was  'that* 
instead  of  'true'?" 

"Yes;  I  said  it  wasn't  '  true,'  and  he  asked  why 
it  was  that  the  editors  always  put  in  such  a  thun- 
derin*  lot  of  things  that  wa'n't  so!  Aren't  you  com- 
ing to  the  rally?  It 's  nearly  four  o'clock." 

346 


TRYING  FOR   DRAMATICS 

"No,  I  'm  writing  for  the  cause,  and  that 's  more 
noble  than  going  over  to  listen.  You  need  n't  say 
anything  to  Ardis  if  you  see  her.  Very  likely  she  's 
planning  to  help  later  on.  Poor  old  Rachel,  you 
look  tired  out !  That 's  the  fourth  time  you  've  been 
down  to  the  printer's  to-day,  isn't  it?  " 

"Only  the  third,"  said  Rachel,  cheerfully. 
"Good-bye,  and  come  over  if  you  can." 

She  swung  herself  out  of  the  window,  and  Eliza- 
beth was  left  to  concentrate  her  scattered  energies 
upon  a  plea  for  the  new  Chemistry  Building. 
Everybody  realized,  in  a  vague  sort  of  way,  that 
the  college  was  poor,  but  few  people  understood 
how  hard  it  was  sometimes  for  the  President  to 
make  both  ends  meet.  The  class-rooms  were  be- 
coming more  and  more  crowded  every  year,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  rapidly  increasing  size  of  the  college, 
and  although  the  professors  were  often  at  their  wits' 
end  to  know  where  the  next  recitation  could  be 
held,  there  was  no  money  to  remedy  the  urgent 
need.  But  the  demand  for  a  new  Science  Building 
had  now  become  imperative,  as  the  old  one,  which 
was  small  to  begin  with,  was  utilized  by  Chemistry, 
Physics,  Zoology,  and  their  laboratories;  Geology, 
Physiology,  Mineralogy,  and  beginning  German; 
and  an  inoffensive  German  or  Geology  student  could 
scarcely  help  suffering  pathetically  from  the  daily 
and  uncongenial  companionship  of  H2S  or  PH8. 

The  Councillors  of  the  two  upper  classes  had  been 
going  around  during  the  past  week,  getting  subscrip- 
tions among  the  girls,  and  this  afternoon  a  mass- 
meeting  was  held  to  discuss  results.  Excitement 
waxed  high  when  the  report  read  that  nine  hundred 

347 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

and  eighty-seven  dollars  had   actually  been  raised, 
or  pledged,  among  the  students  alone ! 

"It  lacks  only  thirteen  dollars  of  a  thousand," 
said  Councillor  Wyman,  impressively.  "Is  there 
no  one  here  who  will  help  to  make  up  the  even 
sum  ? " 

A  Junior  called  out,  "  I  '11  give  a  dollar,"  and  this 
encouraged  a  small  Freshman  who  had  been  fidget- 
ing impatiently,  to  say,  "I  '11  give  five." 

Other  offerings  were  quickly  made ;  and  when  the 
thirteenth  dollar  was  pledged,  the  whole  chapel 
united  in  triumphant  applause. 

"We  all  know,"  said  Ruth  Burritt,  rising,  "that 
the  college  is  in  terrible  need  of  everything,  except 
people  to  love  her  and  stand  by  her  through  thick 
and  thin  !  [applause]  and  that  the  Alumnae  are  work- 
ing very  hard  to  get  us  a  library,  so  we  can't  reason- 
ably expect  them  to  help  us  about  this  new  building. 
But  we  can  each  of  us  do  something  if  we  fully 
understand  that  every  little  counts  for  much.  So 
let  us  make  our  beginning,  and  pass  it  on  to  those 
who  come  after  us,  trusting  them  to  realize,  as  we 
do,  that  when  our  Alma  Mater  calls  on  us  for  help, 
she  must  not  call  in  vain  ! " 

This  speech  was  greeted  with  tremendous  enthu- 
siasm, and  then  Ardis  Hathaway  rose,  saying,  "The 
Glee  and  Banjo  Clubs  would  like  to  contribute  two 
hundred  dollars  —  the  proceeds  of  the  Easter  Con- 
cert —  to  the  fund  for  the  Chemistry  Building." 

The  Leader  of  the  Glee  Club,  who  had  just  come 
into  the  hall,  flushed  crimson  as  she  heard  this,  and 
walked  up  to  one  of  her  first  sopranos,  who  was 
applauding  vigorously  in  a  back  row. 

348 


TRYING   FOR   DRAMATICS 

"Stop  clapping  for  yourself!"  the  Sophomore 
beside  her  was  saying. 

"I  wasn't!"  answered  the  girl,  indignantly.  "I 
was  clapping  for  my  Leader ! " 

"  When  was  this  business  meeting  held?"  asked 
Clare,  slipping  her  arm  around  the  girl's  sweet 
neck,  for  she  had  heard  the  reply. 

"This  morning,  before  chapel.  Why  weren't  you 
there?  We  all  wanted  to  talk  it  over  with  you." 

"I  didn't  know  anything  about  it.  I  was  ill 
yesterday,  and  this  morning  there  was  nothing  to  do 
at  the  college,  so  I  stayed  at  home." 

"The  sign  was  up  yesterday,"  said  the  soprano, 
looking  troubled,  "and  we  thought  of  course  that 
you  knew  about  it." 

But  she  understood  as  well  as  Clare  did  that  the 
leader  of  a  Glee  Club  does  not  usually  learn  of  its 
business  meetings  from  a  sign  on  the  bulletin 
board ! 

"Never  mind,"  said  Clare,  gently;  "the  money 
has  gone  just  where  I  would  have  wanted  it  to." 

She  could  scarcely  complain  of  the  Glee  Club 
Manager  to  this  child.  But  it  had  hurt  all  the 
same,  as  little  things  sometimes  will;  for  she  felt 
that^  it  had  placed  her  in  a  false  position,  —  with 
the  Glee  Club,  who  would  think  that  she  was  not 
interested,  and  with  the  other  girls,  who  would  give 
her  more  credit  than  was  her  due.  "  It  was  just  a 
little  unnecessary,"  she  thought,  as  the  mass  meet- 
ing adjourned;  but  she  knew  that  it  would  be  of  no 
use  to  speak  to  Ardis  about  it. 

"  Did  you  know  that  Mr.  Field  is  coming  up  next 
week?"  asked  Leonora  Kent,  slipping  her  hand 

349 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

through  Clare's  arm.  "  Be  thankful  that  you  're  not 
on  the  Dramatics  Committee,  and  walk  over  to  the 
Storey  with  me  this  minute.  We  had  a  meeting  in 
Kathleen's  room  half  an  hour  ago." 

Leonora  had  been  elected  Chairman  of  the  Dra- 
matics Committee  because  of  her  executive  ability 
and  her  good  temper,  — two  really  excellent  quali- 
ties which  are  not  always  found  in  combination.  It 
would  be  a  crucial  moment  when  the  trainer,  Mr. 
Field,  came  up  to  pass  judgment  on  the  girls  who 
were  trying  for  parts  in  "Twelfth  Night,"  and 
Leonora  was  proportionately  concerned.  Of  course 
the  committee  always  made  its  own  choice  of  charac- 
ters, but  this  choice  did  not  invariably  coincide  with 
that  of  the  trainer,  and  the  students  were  awaiting 
his  advent  with  uneasy  minds. 

The  annual  Shakespeare  play  at  Harland  had 
resulted  from  the  discovery  made  by  both  Faculty 
and  students  that  the  best  way  to  understand 
Shakespeare  is  to  "go  and  do  it."  And  the  fact 
that  even  the  minor  parts  were  taken  by  intelligent 
and  sympathetic  people,  who  had  made  a  careful 
study  of  the  great  master,  did  much  to  obviate  the 
difficulties  that  would  naturally  lie  in  the  way  of 
unprofessional  work.  Well-known  critics  had  gone 
so  far  as  to  say  that  the  "  Shylock "  of  Harland 
surpassed  any  that  they  had  ever  seen,  although 
they  did  add  afterwards  that  "they  could  not  under- 
stand it ;  "  and  the  famous  "  Nick  Bottom  "  of  Amy 
Lennox  had  attracted  the  attention  of  Sargent  him- 
self, who  besought  her  to  give  up  her  High  School 
engagement  in  the  West  and  go  upon  the  stage. 
The  Dramatics  were  always  so  popular  that  there 

35° 


TRYING  FOR   DRAMATICS 

were  generally  half-a-dozen  applicants  for  each  part; 
and  as  the  people  who  did  not  apply  spent  most  of 
their  time  in  coaching  those  who  did,  the  whole 
play  was  thoroughly  known  by  every  one  in  the  class 
before  the  first  performance  took  place. 

As  Clare  and  Leonora  approached  Kathleen's 
room,  they  heard  her  roaring  savagely,  "  '  Oh,  for  a 
stone  bow,  to  hit  him  in  the  eye!' 

"Ow,  go  away!"  expostulated  a  milder  voice. 
"  Your  next  cue  is  '  where  I  have  left  Olivia  ' !  " 

"'Fire  and  brimstone!'"  broke  in  Sir  Toby, 
with  an  audible  kick. 

"No,  no,  you  came  in  too  soon;  you  ought  to 
have  waited  for  —  " 

" '  Bolts  and  shackles ! '  "  shouted  Sir  Toby  again. 

" '  Oh  peace,  peace,  peace,  now,  now ! '  "  expostu- 
lated the  prompter  as  the  door  opened,  and  Kath- 
leen advanced  towards  her  friends,  with  a  feather 
duster  in  one  uplifted  hand,  inquiring  ferociously,  — 

" '  Shall  this  fellow  live  ? '  " 

"'You  must  amend  your  drunkenness,'"  said 
Leonora,  disarming  Sir  Toby  with  a  clever  turn  of 
the  wrist. 

"'Out,  scab,'"  said  Kathleen,  pointing  derisively 
at  Clare;  "this  is  a  Dramatics  meeting." 

"We're  not  all  here  yet,"  said  Leonora,  estab- 
lishing herself  on  the  divan.  "Now  go  ahead, 
Virginia,  and  give  us  Maria." 

"'A  dry  jest,  sir,'"  replied  Maria,  dropping  a 
demure  little  courtesy,  "but  you  don't  catch  me 
doing  my  part  again  until  Sir  Andrew  comes." 

"  He  does  n't  belong  to  the  committee,  and  neither 
do  you,  so  clear  out,  Ginny ! "  said  Kathleen,  good- 

351 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

naturedly.  "We  can't  have  the  whole  caste  spout- 
ing around  in  here." 

Clare  and  Virginia  took  their  departure  when  the 
others  came  in,  and  the  committee  set  to  work. 

"To  tell  the  truth,  I'm  not  certain  about  Sir 
Andrew  yet,"  said  Leonora,  consulting  her  note- 
book. "What  would  you  think  of  Miriam  Smith?  " 

"She  lithpth,"  answered  Kathleen,  briefly. 

"Well,  how  about  Peacemaker  Adams?  She's 
wild  to  have  a  part." 

"She  also  lithpth,"  said  Kathleen  again. 

"No,  she  doesn't, — you're  thinking  of  Pomona. 
But  perhaps  we  can  work  both  those  in,  as  a  '  Lord, 
Priest,  Sailor,  Officer,  Musician  — 

"No!"  howled  Kathleen,  "not  that!" 

" '  And  other  attendants, ' '  finished  Leonora, 
severely. 

"Minnie  Appleyard  is  the  best  for  Sir  Andrew," 
said  Mildred  Wyman,  decidedly.  "She's  so  fat 
that  she'll  be  funny  if  she  doesn't  act  at  all." 

"No,  sir!  I'm  going  to  be  fat !"  said  Kathleen. 
"I  've  got  the  promise  of  all  the  sofa-pillows  in  the 
house." 

"One  of  you  ought  to  be  thin,"  objected  Lucile 
Murray. 

"But  it  won't  be  acting  at  all  if  a  fat  girl  plays  a 
fat  part.  Let  the  corpulent  one  say,  'I  am  thin,' 
and  act  thin,  by  my  hat !  Then  it  '11  be  real  art." 

"Kathleen,  be  still,"  said  Grace  Reade,  impa- 
tiently. "I  think  there  's  no  doubt  that  Edith  will 
get  Orsino,  don't  you?" 

"There's  no  one  better,"  replied  the  Chairman; 
"and  you,  Grace,  are  pretty  well  fixed  as  Sebastian. 

352 


TRYING  FOR  DRAMATICS 

Amy  Allen  and  those  others  can't  begin  to  come  up 
to  you." 

"I  think  it  depends  entirely  on  who  gets  Viola," 
said  Grace.  "  It  is  certain  that  I  look  less  unlike 
Elsie  Dane  than  like  Ardis.  I  don't  see  why  Ardis 
isn't  willing  to  try  for  Olivia,  anyway.  She's  the 
only  beauty  in  the  class." 

"Because  she  prefers  to  be  first  in  everything," 
said  Mildred,  with  a  smile.  "  I  think  we  all  under- 
stand our  friend  Epicurus  by  this  time.  Now  about 
Malvolio,  —  I'm  going  to  try  for  that,  although  of 
course  I  shall  get  left.  And  Faith  is  pretty  sure  of 
the  Clown.  I  'm  simply  wild  to  see  her  skipping 
around  the  stage  in  red  curly  shoes,  and  hear  her 
sing,  '  Hold  thy  peace,  thou  knave ! ' ' 

"  Yes,  she  does  it  well  enough,  if  she  be  so  dis- 
posed," said  Kathleen,  condescendingly,  "and  so  do 
I  too.  '  She  does  it  with  a  better  grace,  but  I  do  it 
more  natural. ' ' 

"'Very  sweet  and  contagious,  i'  faith,*"  said 
Grace,  suppressing  her  friend  with  a  sofa-pillow, 
"but  for  heaven's  sake,  keep  still  till  this  meeting 
is  over." 

"I  wonder  if  Christine  is  going  to  try  for  any- 
thing?" said  Lucile. 

"She's  kept  pretty  still  about  it,  if  she  is,"  said 
Mildred.  "But  then,  she's  not  much  given  to 
prating  of  her  intentions." 

"'  A  fustian  riddle,'  "  came  in  a  smothered  voice 
from  under  the  pillow,  " '  And  O  shall  end,  I 
hope ! ' " 

It  did  end  when  Mr.  Field  came  up  the  next 
week.  An  anxious  group  assembled  outside  the 
23  353 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Athletics  room  in  the  old  Gym,  where  the  trials 
were  to  take  place,  and  much  amusing  conversation 
was  heard  on  the  stairs.  Some  of  the  competitors 
were  nervous,  but  most  of  them  were  in  riotous 
spirits.  Ardis  Hathaway,  who  was  trying  for  Viola, 
sat  by  herself  on  an  upper  step  eagerly  studying  her 
r61e,  while  three  Sir  Andrews  were  holding  a 
solemn  rehearsal  of  their  part,  in  unison,  interrupted 
at  times  by  the  Clown,  who  playfully  observed, 
" '  How  now,  my  hearties,  did  you  ever  see  a  picture 
of  we  three  ?  ' ' 

Another  candidate  for  "Viola"  sat  in  her  lonely 
sanctum  downstairs,  sorting  over  the  last  relay  of 
proof  sheets  for  the  "  Prism. "  Her  previous  trials 
for  the  part  had  met  with  enthusiastic  approval  from 
the  committee,  but  on  account  of  the  work  which 
one  of  the  editors  had  left  undone,  she  would  be 
unable  to  see  Mr.  Field  that  afternoon.  The  injus- 
tice and  exasperation  of  it  all  came  over  her  in 
wrathful  gusts  as  she  listened  to  the  hilarity  out- 
side. Most  of  the  editors  were  trying  for  some  part 
in  the  play,  and  she  was  therefore  reluctant  to  call 
upon  them  for  extra  work,  although  she  knew  that 
they  would  not  refuse.  But  Elizabeth  realized  the 
full  extent  of  her  responsibilities,  and  understood 
that  when  there  was  a  deficiency  on  the  staff  the 
editor-in-chief  must  supply  it.  And  the  fact  that 
she  was  working  her  way  through  college  made  the 
situation  still  more  trying.  Tutoring  and  sewing 
occupied  all  the  outside  time  that  might  otherwise 
have  been  given  to  the  study  of  her  part,  and  now 
the  few  spare  moments  that  she  had  saved  for  it 
were  urgently  demanded  by  the  "Prism." 

354 


TRYING   FOR   DRAMATICS 

"I  suppose  I  might  as  well  give  it  up!"  she 
thought,  turning  to  the  great  pile  of  proof  sheets 
that  awaited  her. 

There  was  a  soft  tap  at  the  door,  and  the  Class 
President  came  in. 

"Why  aren't  you  upstairs?"  she  asked,  laying 
her  hand  for  a  minute  on  Elsie's  hot  forehead. 
"  You  ought  to  try  for  your  part  now,  while  you  're 
feeling  fresh,  and  not  put  it  off  till  the  last  of  the 
afternoon.  Ardis  has  just  gone  in." 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  can't,"'  said  Elsie,  with  the  suspicion 
of  a  quiver  in  her  voice.  "There  is  work  to  be 
done,  — and  this  is  my  first  duty,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  but  can't  it  wait  a  few  minutes,  only  this 
once?  It  may  make  all  the  difference  about  your 
getting  the  part." 

"  Yes ;  but  the  work  ought  to  be  finished  to-day, 
and  somehow  I  don't  like  to  put  it  off.  You  see 
it's  our  last  number,  and  I've  determined  that  it 
shall  be  a  good  one.  Of  course  it 's  a  disappoint- 
ment; but  I  suppose  that  a  person  like  me  ought  not 
to  expect  to  go  in  for  anything  that 's  only  pleasure, 
anyway.  I  ought  to  sit  down  and  be  thankful  for 
my  little  attic  room,  with  the  smell  of  the  turnips 
coming  up  from  the  kitchen;  and  not  want  pretty 
clothes  that  fit,  and  not  want  to  go  to  the  Prom 
because  it  will  cost  a  dollar,  and  not  want  to  try  for 
Dramatics  when  I  really  haven't  the  time,  and  — 
Oh,  Ruth,  it  is  so  hard  to  crowd  the  youngness  out 
of  one !  I  try  and  try,  but  somehow  it  will  always 
keep  cropping  up." 

The  tears  had  come  to  Ruth's  eyes,  and  she 
answered,  "Yes,  I  know!" 

355 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

"I'm  ashamed  of  having  spoken  like  that,"  said 
Elsie,  taking  up  her  pen.  "  I  did  n't  mean  to,  and  I 
seldom  do.  But  you  're  so  dreadfully  sympathetic 
that  you  always  affect  me  like  a  kind  of  spiritual 
door-mat,  on  which  to  wipe  off  my  troubles." 

"Is  it  only  proof -correcting  ?"  asked  Ruth,  sud- 
denly. "Why,  Elsie,  if  that's  all!  Mr.  Packard 
taught  me  how  to  correct  proofs  one  summer  when 
he  was  on  the  'Lampoon.'  It's  nothing  at  all,  if 
you  know  how.  Just  let  me  take  that  page  a  minute 
and  I  '11  show  you." 

"You  do  know  how,"  said  Elizabeth,  approvingly, 
as  Ruth  gave  evidence  of  her  skill. 

"Well,  then,  you  go  straight  upstairs  and  let  me 
finish  this  work.  I  can  do  it  as  well  as  you,  and 
it's  very  important  for  you  to  see  Mr.  Field  to-day. 
Oh,  Elsie,  don't  say  no.  Please,  please,  don't  be 
unreasonable  and  everything!  I'll  be  so  careful, 
and  I  know  why  it  is  that  you  have  extra  work  this 
afternoon,  although  I  respect  you  for  not  telling. 
But  I  'm  President  of  my  class,  and  it  would  be 
wrong  for  me  to  stand  by  and  see  unfairness  like 
this  without  trying  to  prevent  it.  That 's  what  being 
a  President  means.  You  know,  Elsie,  you  know, 
yourself.  And  then  —  Oh,  Elsie,  that  night  when 
I  was  sick,  and  you  sat  up  and  nursed  me!  Don't 
you  remember?  And  the  next  morning  there  was 
no  breakfast,  because  we  had  run  out  of  supplies, 
and  it  took  all  our  money  to  pay  for  the  medicine 
that  the  doctor  ordered.  And  I  had  to  lie  there 
and  see  you  go  off  to  work,  knowing  that  you  had 
had  nothing  to  eat ! " 

"  It 's  true  that  we  've  had  some  experiences  to- 
356 


TRYING  FOR  DRAMATICS 

gather, "  said  Elsie,  giving  her  a  warm  hug,  "but 
don't  cry,  Ruth.  I  '11  let  you  correct  the  proofs  if 
you  want  to,  and  I  '11  go  upstairs  and  do  my  best, 
honestly  I  will,  only  —  don  t  cry,  Ruth;  and  thank 
you,  dear. " 

When  she  joined  the  group  on  the  stairs,  Kathleen 
was  contesting  hotly  with  "  a  Sea  Captain,  friend  to 
Viola,"  who  considered  that  his  turn  ought  to  come 
next. 

"  *  I  cannot  be  so  answered ! '  *'  said  Kathleen, 
severely.  "As  for  waiting  around  any  longer  in 
this  slip-shod,  heterogeneous  fashion,  it 's  myself 
that  won't  stand  it.  Beshrewme,  if  it  isn't  enough 
to  turn  a  black  cat  maltese ! " 

"'Sir  Toby,  there  you  lie!'"  drawled  one  of  the 
Marias  from  a  top  step.  "You  know  that  you 
wouldn't  go  away  for  love  or  money." 

"Mr.  Field  wants  the  next  Viola,"  said  Leo- 
nora Kent,  coming  to  the  door.  "  Is  Elsie  Dane 
here?" 

Elizabeth  quickly  responded,  and  Kathleen  and 
her  Sea  Captain  immediately  engaged  in  a  scuffle. 

" '  The  offenth  ith  not  of  such  a  bloody  nature, ' ' 
remonstrated  Pomona  Adams  mildly,  from  the  win- 
dow-seat. "  Oh,  girlth,  here  comth  Mith  Arnold, 
reading.  She  'th  got  a  Shakethpeare  from  the 
Library. " 

"  I  borrowed  hers,  that 's  why,"  said  Kathleen.  "  I 
didn't  know  she  was  going  to  try  for  anything." 

" '  Be  not  afraid  of  greatness, '  "  murmured  Chris- 
tine, entering  the  hall. 

" '  Fie  on  him,  Jezebel ! '  "  called  Kathleen  over 
the  banisters.  "Take  off  those  yellow  stockings." 

357 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"Oh,  I  hope  she  '11  get  Malvolio,"  said  one  of  the 
girls. 

"So  do  I,"  agreed  Kathleen.  "If  she  doesn't, 
Philippa  Fairbank  will,  and  that  high  and  mighty 
air  of  hers  is  one  too  much  for  me.  She  looks  at 
me  as  if  I  were  a  mouse  suspended  by  the  tail.  *  Go 
off,'  she  says,  'gooff!'" 

When  the  final  result  of  the  trials  was  made 
known,  it  seemed  that  the  selection  of  the  Dramatics 
Committee  had  been,  in  the  main,  approved.  But 
Mr.  Field  had  seriously  objected  to  a  fat  Sir  Andrew 
Aguecheek,  saying  that  he  ought  by  rights  to  be  a 
slim  knight,  of  meagre  proportions.  Accordingly 
Miss  Appleyard  was  relegated  to  the  part  of  Antonio, 
the  Sea  Captain,  and  Freda  Hastings  took  Sir 
Andrew. 

"I  wonder  why  we  hadn't  thought  of  her  before," 
said  one  of  the  girls.  "That  deadly  serious  air  of 
hers  will  make  it  all  the  funnier." 

"She's  bow-legged,  too,"  added  somebody  else. 
"It  couldn't  be  better." 

Nobody  but  Kathleen  had  tried  for  Sir  Toby,  as 
the  other  girls  did  not  dare  compete  with  her. 
Christine  emerged  triumphant  as  Malvolio,  although 
Mr.  Field  declared  that  the  acting  of  Philippa  Fair- 
bank  in  this  part  was  nearly  as  good.  The  trainer 
was  to  come  again  in  two  weeks,  and  meanwhile 
rehearsals  were  to  be  directed  by  the  Professor  of 
Elocution. 

The  first  one  was  a  memorable  occasion,  for  all 
the  minor  parts  insisted  on  being  present  in  every 
scene,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  they  could  be 
ejected  to  wait  until  their  turn  came.  The  relations 

358 


TRYING  FOR   DRAMATICS 

between  Viola  and  Olivia  were,  unfortunately,  some- 
what strained,  as  Elsie  Dane  had  come  off  victo- 
rious, and  Ardis  found  it  hard  to  forgive  her.  At 
first  she  refused  to  take  any  part  at  all,  but  Mr. 
Field  finally  persuaded  her  to  accept  Olivia,  although 
her  behavior  at  the  time  was  such  as  to  infuriate  the 
loyal  members  of  Ninety-five. 

"To  think  of  having  to  be  teased,"  said  Mildred 
Wyman,  indignantly,  "when  so  many  girls  are 
simply  dying  for  a  part ! " 

"Well,  you  see,"  said  Mr.  Field,  conciliatingly, 
"  she 's  so  confoundedly  pretty ; "  and  the  girls  realized 
that  it  would  be  quite  useless  to  reason  with  such  a 
man. 

Clare  Deland  was  to  have  the  general  supervision 
of  the  music,  although  the  actual  work  of  training 
the  choruses  and  wrestling  with  the  orchestra  would 
be  done  by  Faith  Bentley,  who  had  more  time.  The 
editors  went  off  duty  in  April ;  but  the  demands  on 
the  Glee  Club  leader  would  become  steadily  greater 
now,  until  Commencement.  Clare  did  not  mind  this 
at  all,  for  the  training  of  her  class  in  the  Ivy  music 
is  the  proudest  as  well  as  the  most  loving  task  that 
a  leader  has  to  perform;  and  the  Glee  Club  pros- 
pects for  this  term  had  been  much  improved  by  the 
happy  return  of  Margretta  Nolenski.  She  had 
appeared  with  a  smiling  countenance  at  the  first 
spring  rehearsal,  and  Clare  wondered  afterwards 
why  it  was  that  Ardis  and  May  Churchill  exchanged 
significant  glances  when  she  came  in.  She  might 
have  wondered  still  more  if  she  had  known  just  how 
large  a  fracas  had  been  averted  by  the  timely  presence 
of  this  young  Polish-American. 

359 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

But  Clare  was  thinking  of  something  else  at 
present,  and,  strange  to  say,  it  had  nothing  to  do 
with  Glee  Club.  The  competition  for  the  Ivy  Poem 
had  now  begun,  and  no  one  knew  who  was  trying 
for  it,  but  everybody  who  sat  up  late  was  suspected. 
Clare  had  always  been  fond  of  writing  verses,  al- 
though she  could  seldom  be  persuaded  to  let  any  one 
see  them;  but  a  few  simple  little  things  in  the 
"Prism"  had  caused  Miss  Carlisle  to  say,  "If  you 
were  not  so  much  of  a  musician,  you  might  be  an 
unusually  good  writer." 

Clare  remembered  that  Dr.  Page  had  once  re- 
marked, "  If  you  had  not  so  many  outside  interests, 
you  might  be  a  remarkable  musician,"  and  wondered 
if  she  ought  to  annihilate  herself.  But  now  her 
attempt  at  an  Ivy  Poem  was  done,  and,  to  compli- 
cate matters,  the  music  had  come  with  it!  "It 
belongs  with  it,"  she  thought,  "and  yet  the  same 
person  never  gets  both.  If  the  words  succeed,  the 
committee  won't  take  the  music,  and  if  —  what  is 
more  likely  —  the  words  fail,  the  music  will  be  of  no 
use,  anyway."  It  was  Clare's  first  experience  in 
setting  her  own  words  to  music,  although  she  had 
composed  many  songs,  and  she  felt  much  as  a  mother 
does  who  makes  the  clothes  for  her  own  child.  But 
she  said  nothing  about  the  little  musical  garments 
when  the  words  were  handed  in.  At  the  end  of  the 
allotted  time,  it  was  announced  that  Miriam  Smith 
had  won  the  competition,  and  Clare  tried  to  forget 
how  disappointed  she  was.  "But  I  'd  be  an  abomi- 
nable pig  if  I  wasn't  glad,"  she  thought,  "when 
Miriam  looks  so  happy." 

The  Ivy  Poem  is  very  often  written  by  some  one 
360 


TRYING   FOR  DRAMATICS 

who  has  never  written  anything  before.  This  girl 
had  never  been  admitted  to  a  society ;  she  had  tried 
for  the  Glee  Club,  and  failed;  she  had  tried  for 
Dramatics,  and  failed.  Nobody  in  her  class  knew 
anything  about  her;  but  what  difference  did  that 
make,  now  that  she  had  written  the  Ivy  Poem !  Her 
father  and  mother  would  see  it  on  the  Ivy  Day  pro- 
gram, under  the  class  seal,  and  hear  it  sung  after 
the  Oration,  while  the  class  President  was  planting 
the  ivy  beside  the  college  walls.  And  they  would 
be  delightfully,  even  ridiculously  proud,  as  only  the 
best  fathers  and  mothers  can. 

And  after  all,  it  was  the  music  that  had  meant  the 
most  to  Clare.  She  went  down  to  Dramatics  re- 
hearsal that  afternoon  to  help  Faith  with  the  "  catch  " 
in  the  second  act,  and  while  the  girls  waited  for  a 
delinquent  member  of  the  caste,  they  asked  her  to 
play  something.  She  had  tried  in  vain  to  forget  the 
one  dear  melody  that  had  followed  her  about  for  the 
last  few  weeks,  but  it  was  waiting  always  at  her 
fingers'  ends,  and  this  afternoon  it  played  itself 
before  she  realized  what  had  happened. 

"What  is  it,  Clare?"  asked  Orsino,  from  his 
perch  on  a  step-ladder.  "  Oh,  do  play  it  again !  Is 
it  one  of  yours  ?  " 

A  tall,  pale  girl  rose  from  one  of  the  stage  boxes, 
where  she  had  been  sitting,  unobserved,  and  said : 
"I  know  what  it  is!  It  couldn't  be  but  one  thing. 
I  know  what  it  is ! " 

She  pulled  a  rumpled  piece  of  paper  out  of  her 
pocket  and  tossed  it  over  to  Clare,  who  saw  that  it 
was  the  first  rough  draft  of  the  Ivy  Poem.  And  what 
was  stranger  still,  the  music  went  to  the  words! 

361 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

"Don't  say  anything  about  it  now,"  she  said 
quickly,  for  the  coincidence  seemed  almost  too  sur- 
prising to  be  true.  The  words  of  the  poem  were 
beautiful  and  simple,  and  Clare  felt  satisfied  that 
they  were  a  hundred  times  better  than  her  own ;  but 
the  music  — 

"I  want  to  see  you  after  rehearsal,"  said  Faith, 
who  was  on  the  Song  Committee;  "but  how  in  the 
name  of  all  that 's  wonderful  you  managed  to  finish 
that  music  to-day,  when  you  didn't  see  the  words 
until  this  morning  — 

"I  didn't  see  the  words  until  Miriam  showed 
them  to  me  just  now,"  said  Clare,  laughing;  and 
Faith  looked  so  mystified  that  she  promised  to 
explain  later  on. 

That  evening  Clare  met  Faith  and  another  mem- 
ber of  the  Ivy  Day  Committee  in  Music  Hall,  and 
the  two  Seniors  listened  to  their  Ivy  Music. 

"It's  a  song  that  understands,"  said  Faith,  look- 
ing out  past  the  dusk  on  the  college  steps.  "It  has 
the  haze  of  the  meadows  over  it." 

"And  the  strength  of  the  mountains  too." 

"  And  the  scent  of  the  arbutus,  —  oh,  Clare!  " 

"It  has  something  else,"  added  the  other  Senior, 
after  a  pause.  " Do  you  know,  if  you  weren't  such  a 
happy  kind  of  person,  with  more  friends  than  you 
can  attend  to,  I  should  almost  think  that  you  'd  lost 
something  you  cared  for.  That 's  what  makes  us 
want  to  cry  when  we  hear  it,  although  it  is  n't  a  sad 
song." 

"Wasn't  it  strange  that  Miriam  should  have  got 
it  ? "  asked  Faith,  hurriedly.  "  We  never  supposed 
that  she  could  write,  although  she  is  certainly  a 

362 


TRYING   FOR  DRAMATICS 

passionate  lover  of  the  college.  The  other  night  I 
found  her  with  her  arms  tight  around  that  stone 
pillar  on  the  side  porch,  and  her  cheek  against  it, 
and  I  should  have  stopped  to  call  her  a  fool  if  — 
well  —  I  hadn't  been  crying  a  little  myself." 

"You  inconsistent  old  dear!"  said  the  Senior, 
walking  rapidly  to  another  window.  "But  it's  a 
good  thing  that  we  've  been  too  busy  so  far  to  think 
much  about  what  it  all  means." 

It  is  really  surprising  how  little  time  there  is 
for  sentimentalizing  in  that  last  spring  term  at  col- 
lege. Anxiety  for  the  success  of  Dramatics,  ap- 
pointments on  the  Commencement  Committees; 
^Esthetics  and  Philosophy  papers  long  overdue,  are 
all  absorbing  subjects  of  interest ;  and  it  is  only  in 
quieter  moments  —  at  vespers,  perhaps,  or  in  the 
warm  twilight  of  the  campus  evenings  —  that  the 
college  girl  remembers  "these  things  are  the  last!" 

"I  can't  realize  that  we're  actually  going  abroad 
when  it's  all  over,"  said  Clare  to  Christine  one 
afternoon,  as  they  walked  down  to  the  Opera  House. 
"  And  yet  it 's  what  I  've  longed  for  ever  since  I  can 
remember,  —  music  study  in  Germany.  And  to 
think  that  you  're  really  going  with  us  !  Oh,  Chris- 
tine! how  do  you  suppose  it  all  happened? " 

This  was  the  plan  that  Mrs.  Deland  had  been 
cherishing  in  secret  for  several  years;  and  it  was 
going  to  come  true! 

"  Of  course  we  shall  travel  very  simply  and  live 
in  small  pensions,  not  hotels,  but  we  shall  have  such 
fun  among  ourselves  that  other  things  won't  make 
any  difference." 

"Fun!     Well,  I  should  rather  think  so!     I'm  so 
363 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

glad  that  my  mother  said  I  could  go !  I  was  afraid 
at  first  that  she  would  n't.  But  having  Stephen  over 
there  will  make  her  feel  more  comfortable  about 
us." 

"  Yes ;  but  if  your  brother  is  studying  architecture 
in  Paris,  I  don't  see  that  we  shall  be  very  likely  to 
run  across  him  often  in  Berlin." 

"He'll  come  and  see  us,  of  course,  and  you  and 
he  will  probably  spend  most  of  your  time  at  the 
Wagner-Vereins.  I  like  Wagner  myself,  but  not  in 
allopathic  doses ;  so  you  can't  count  on  my  society 
more  than  five  hours  a  day. " 

The  friendship  between  Christine  and  Clare  had 
grown  steadily,  from  the  time  when  Pippa  came 
singing  through  the  early  morning,  and  taught 
another  girl  that  all  was  yet  right  with  this  heart- 
breaking world.  They  had  said  nothing  about  it, 
but  each  knew  from  that  day  that  the  little  barrier 
of  misunderstanding  was  gone  at  last;  and  some- 
times they  felt,  although  they  never  spoke  of  it,  that 
a  common  loss  had  drawn  them  together. 

The  Opera  House  was  cool  and  dark  as  they 
pushed  open  the  stage  door,  and  Christine  experi- 
enced a  wild  thrill  of  exultation  as  she  looked  up  at 
the  scenery  suspended  over  her  head,  and  the  ropes 
which  crossed  and  recrossed  in  mysterious  tangles. 
There  was  something  inspiring  also  in  the  stiff 
little  imitation  hillocks,  with  false,  curly  moss  stuck 
on  to  them,  like  the  false  whiskers  on  the  hero. 
She  rejoiced  that  she  was  going  to  be  Malvolio,  and 
went  through  her  part  with  so  much  spirit  that  the 
little  audience  applauded  vigorously  when  she  left 
the  stage.  She  waited  a  few  minutes  to  see  the 

364 


TRYING  FOR   DRAMATICS 

midnight  carouse  of  Sir  Toby  and  his  friend,  aided 
by  the  sprightly  Maria;  and  while  groping  her  way 
through  the  seats  in  the  orchestra  circle,  she  ran 
against  Philippa  Fairbank,  who  was  watching  the 
rehearsal  from  a  dark  corner. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?"  asked  Christine,  in 
alarm;  for  Philippa,  the  stately  and  severe,  was 
unquestionably  weeping. 

"Oh  dear,  is  it  you?  I  didn't  suppose  any  one 
would  come  down  here,"  was  the  dismal  reply. 

"I'll  go  away  if  you'd  rather.  But  please  tell 
me  —  no,  I'll  tell  you  instead.  I  have  a  boat 
engaged  for  this  hour.  Let  's  go  up  and  take  a 
row." 

The  Athletic  Association  had  purchased  a  few 
boats  the  year  before,  and  by  writing  one's  name 
very  forcibly  on  top  of  any  others  that  happened  to 
be  on  the  slate,  one  of  these  crafts  could  be  secured 
for  a  short  time.  The  lake  was  too  small  to  be 
judged  by  its  quantity,  but  its  quality  was  all  that 
could  be  desired.  Nobody  had  been  upset,  nobody 
had  contracted  malaria,  and  everybody's  disposition 
had  been  improved  by  the  innovation. 

Philippa  was  much  pleased  that  Christine  should 
have  asked  her  to  go,  and  insisted  on  carrying  the 
oars  down  from  the  cellar  of  the  old  Gym,  where 
they  were  generally  concealed.  The  boat-house  was 
not  then  built,  and  the  one  remaining  craft  rocked 
gently  at  the  end  of  a  somewhat  uncertain  little 
dock. 

" Let  me  row,"  said  Philippa,  as  they  got  in.  "If 
I  don't  row  I  shall  talk,  and  I  don't  want  to  do 
that." 

365 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"Why  not?"  asked  Christine,  taking  the  oars. 
"If  something  is  bothering  you,  you  'd  better  get  it 
out.  I  won't  listen  if  you  don't  want  me  to." 

She  pushed  off,  and  stood  with  the  dripping  oar 
in  one  hand,  watching  the  drops  scurry  off  in  circu- 
lar ripples  behind  the  boat. 

"I  thought  when  I  came  here,"  began  Philippa, 
abruptly,  "that  I'd  be  something  more  than  Presi- 
dent of  the  H.  A.  C.  W.,  but  I  'm  not. 

"I  wanted,"  she  continued,  as  Christine  did  not 
speak,  "  to  do  something  of  some  account  here,  but 
I  haven't." 

"What  set  you  to  thinking  about  that?"  asked 
Christine.  "  It 's  the  way  we  all  feel." 

"Not  those  of  you  who  succeed.  Why,  I'm  not 
even  in  a  society." 

Christine's  face  darkened.  "That  does  n't  mean 
anything,  Philippa.  At  least  it  means  so  absurdly 
little,  in  comparison  with  the  suffering  it  causes, 
that  one  often  becomes  impatient  at  the  very  exist- 
ence of  such  organizations.  They  aren't  what 
counts  after  we  leave  this  place.  It 's  our  friends 
that  count,  and  our  studies,  and  the  campus,  and  the 
mountains,  and  everything  in  this  world  but  one 
little  society  pin ! " 

"Did  you  think  that  before  you  got  in?"  asked 
Philippa,  quietly;  and  Christine  laughed. 

"No,  I  didn't,"  she  admitted. 

"Then  the  best  solution  of  the  problem  is  to 
meekly  accept  the  law  of  life,  by  which  some  shall 
be  taken,  and  others  left  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  much  better  to  abolish  the  universal 
tendency  to  exaggerate  what  is  unknown.  The  best 

366 


TRYING   FOR  DRAMATICS 

part  of  being  in  a  society  is  that  it  teaches  us  to 
gauge  them  at  their  proper  value.  It  would  be  quite 
impossible  to  persuade  non-members  that  the  society 
girls  do  not  have  a  certain  amount  of  contempt  for 
them.  And  yet  being  in  is  the  very  thing  of  all 
others  that  teaches  us  to  respect  the  people  who  are 
out ;  for  knowing,  as  we  do,  the  number  of  girls 
who  get  in  and  don't  deserve  it,  and  the  greater 
number  who  deserve  it  and  don't  get  in,  we  can't 
help  understanding  that  the  universe  does  not  begin 
and  end  with  membership." 

"  But  afterwards,  when  one  is  an  alumna,  —  to 
come  back  year  after  year  and  find  the  same  society 
wearing  the  same  dear  pin,  and  being  proud  of 
it  —  " 

"Don't!"  said  Christine,  "you  hurt  me.  I've 
been  through  it  all  myself  so  many  times.  And 
although  I  love  my  society  dearly,  I  think  that  I 
shall  always  remember  —  " 

"What?"  asked  Philippa,  curiously. 

"Oh,  nothing,  — an  unpleasant  experience  that  I 
had  in  my  Sophomore  year,  that's  all.  It's  over 
now,  but  somehow  one  does  n't  forget !  " 

"  You  can  afford  to  forget  a  great  deal,  now  that 
you  are  Ivy  Orator,  and  in  the  Dramatics  too." 

"Yes,  but  that  isn't  real  success.  The  beginning 
and  end  of  our  trouble  here  is  that  we  are  always 
confusing  what  we  want  to  be  with  what  we  want 
other  people  to  think  us !  If  only  we  could  make 
ourselves  understand  that  to  do  our  best  is  all  that 
can  be  expected  of  us,  —  if  only  we  could  grow  old 
enough  to  realize  that  it  takes  all  kinds  of  people  to 
make  a  world  —  " 

367 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  If  only  we  would  be  satisfied  with  doing  the 
work  of  a  toe  when  we  'd  rather  do  that  of  an  ear," 
interrupted  Philippa,  grimly. 

"  Never  you  mind,  a  toe  has  plenty  of  sentiment ! 
I  respect  my  toes,  especially  when  they  're  stepped 
on,  and  don't  complain.  But  college  is  a  pretty 
complete  little  world  in  itself.  Some  of  us  have 
got  to  be  toes,  and  do  a  toe's  work.  But  the  toe 
happens  to  be  a  rather  important  member  of  society 
in  the  long  run.  Just  imagine  how  our  high-lights 
would  limp  without  them  !" 

"  It 's  a  cruel  world  —  sometimes,"  said  Philippa, 
slowly. 

"All  worlds  are.  And  this  one  is  not  unlike 
others.  It  is  a  world  with  great  passions  and 
struggles,  and  real  victories  —  or  failures.  It's  a 
very  real  world,  after  all." 

"And  disappointments  are  the  greatest  reality 
in  it." 

"  Yes,  I  believe  that  disappointments  are  the  worst 
things  we  have  to  contend  with  here,  except,  of  course, 
ourselves.  Our  temptations  lie  mostly  in  the  direc- 
tion of  success.  There  is  no  doubt  that  we  all  want 
everything  that 's  going,  and  will  get  it  if  we  can." 

"Not  always!"  said  Philippa,  thinking  of  the 
Junior  presidential  election,  the  year  before. 

Christine  pulled  in  her  oars,  and  they  drifted 
into  the  cool  shadow  of  the  banks. 

"After  all,"  she  said,  half  to  herself,  "it's  a 
dreadful  responsibility  to  be  young,  —  to  know  that 
the  chance  is  yours,  and  that  the  future  is  only  a 
*  perhaps, '  which,  if  you  care  enough,  can  be  made 
into  a  '  must  and  will ' !  I  don't  mean  mere  outward 

368 


TRYING   FOR  DRAMATICS 

distinction,  but  that  *  most  of  the  best '  that  it  is  in 
us  to  do.  And  then  there  's  the  afterwards,  when 
we  can  remember  that  we  tried.  The  remembrance 
of  having  tried  must  be  all  that  one  needs  in  old 
age,  I  should  think.  And  to  really  try,  means  to 
try  for  the  one  hundredth  time,  after  ninety-nine 
failures.  Just  the  same  old  law  by  which  so  many 
leaves  must  live  and  die  before  we  see  one  flower. 
And  yet  the  leaf  cannot  be  considered  a  failure,  — 
unless  the  caterpillars  eat  it." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Philippa;  and  then  she  remem- 
bered having  heard  some  one  say  that  Christine's 
sense  of  humor  was  greater  than  her  sense  of  pro- 
priety. She  wondered  if  her  companion  was  think- 
ing of  the  fuzzy,  brown-and-black  caterpillars  with 
effective  shading,  or  the  smooth,  objectionable  cater- 
pillars, that  one  does  not  like  to  meet. 

"  Those  are  some  of  the  things  that  I  shall  try  to 
say  in  my  Ivy  Oration,"  continued  Christine.  "I 
only  hope  that  I  can  say  them  right ;  I  only  hope 
that  I  can  say  them  truthfully  and  well.  Oh,  this 
old  oration  is  no  joke,  I  can  tell  you !  Sometimes 
I  wonder  how  it  is  that  people  can  get  inside  of  an 
opportunity  and  not  feel  the  awful  solemnity  of  it 
all.  It's  like  the  silence  in  a  canon.  But  it  must 
be  broken  by  your  voice;  and  what  is  anything  that 
you  can  say,  compared  with  the  meaning  of  that 
silence?  Well,  life's  queer." 

" '  Speech  is  but  broken  light  upon  the  depths  of 
the  unspoken,'  "  quoted  Philippa,  sympathetically. 

"True;  that's  what -I   thought   the  other  day  in 
Philosophy,    when    I   flunked   dead.      It   helped   to 
console  me  for  having  said  nothing." 
24  369 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

" '  Which  is  the  properest  day  to  drink,  —  Satur- 
day, Sunday,  Monday?'  "  came  in  a  mediaeval  duet 
down  the  woods  path :  and  Sir  Toby  and  the  fool 
appeared,  skipping  hand  in  hand. 

"  *  Every  day  is  the  properest  day,  so  why  should 
I  speak  of  one  day? ' ;"  replied  the  fool  in  her  sweet 
soprano. 

"'  I  had  rather  than  forty  shillings  I  had  so  sweet 
a  voice  to  sing  as  the  fool  has,'  "  said  Christine,  cor- 
dially. "  Come  aboard,  fool,  and  give  us  an  oar  home ! 
You,  too,  Sir  Toby,  seem  to  be  in  want  of  exercise." 

" '  Excellent !  why,  this  is  the  best  fooling  when 
all  is  done,'"  said  Kathleen,  accepting  the  invita- 
tion. "But,  unfortunately,  all  is  not  done.  I  haven't 
looked  at  my  Ethics  for  to-morrow." 

"And  you  can't  cut,  now  that  you 're  in  Dra- 
matics," said  Faith. 

"If  you  see  me  there  to-morrow,"  responded 
Kathleen,  gloomily,  "you  may  know  that  it's  against 
my  deepest  inclinations." 

"  Like  the  old  woman  who  departed  this  life,"  said 
Christine;  "and  when  a  sympathetic  neighbor  asked 
the  afflicted  widower  if  she  was  willing  to  go, 
*  Willin'  to  go! '  he  repeated  in  surprise,  '  she  was 
'bleegedter!'" 

When  the  girls  reached  the  dock,  a  little  group  of 
Sophomores  were  waiting  for  the  boat,  and  one  of 
them  shyly  observed,  "Here's  to  Ninety-five!"  as 
its  crew  disembarked.  Christine  left  her  friends  at 
the  campus  gate  and  walked  home  through  College 
Lane.  There  was  still  an  hour  before  supper,  and 
she  determined  to  spend  it  in  wrestling  with  the  Ivy 
Oration,  which  was  not  yet  finished. 

37° 


TRYING  FOR  DRAMATICS 

"  My  oration  must  not  live  to  be  ashamed  of  me," 
she  thought,  going  to  her  desk.  "I  wonder  if  it 
knows  that  I  'm  young,  and  is  trembling  all  the  time 
at  what  must  follow?  I  respect  you,"  she  said, 
taking  up  the  loose  pages  that  lay  before  her,  "  and 
therefore  I  'm  afraid  of  you.  It 's  just  the  same  way 
with  the  people  whom  we  fear.  We  're  really  not 
afraid  of  them  at  all,  but  of  ourselves,  for  fear  that 
we  shall  say  or  do  some  idiotic  thing  that  will  for- 
feit their  esteem  forever.  I  wish  I  could  flavor  you 
with  genuine  inspiration,  my  dear,  but  at  present 
everything  desirable  seems  to  be  second  hand.  Life 
is  really  a  vast  intellectual  pawn-shop,  with  all  its 
ideas  neatly  ticketed  on  their  shelves." 

But  she  knew  perfectly  well  that  she  did  not 
believe  this  about  the  ideas,  and  trusted  that  her 
own  were  not  really  pawned,  but  only  cross,  because 
of  the  heat. 

She  seized  her  irresponsible  fountain  pen  and  set 
to  work;  and  just  then  Ruth  came  in  with  the 
Ethics  references  for  to-morrow.  Ruth  generally 
looked  up  references  for  them  both. 

"Do  you  think,"  she  inquired,  "that  everything 
—  every  person  and  every  emotion  —  was  put  into 
the  world  for  good?  That  evil  is  only  perverted 
good,  and  not  a  positive  quality  at  all  ? " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Christine,  stopping  to  tie 
a  piece  of  blotting-paper  around  her  pen.  "  How 
about  a  poor  photographer?  Do  you  think  that 
there  was  intended  to  be  any  good  in  him  ? " 

"No,"  replied  Ruth  emphatically,  remembering 
the  bad  Senior  pictures ;  "  I  shall  give  that  as  an 
example  in  class." 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Well,  do  you  think  —  "  she  began  again. 

"No,"  said  Christine,  severely;  "don't  you  see 
that  I  'm  writing?  " 

"Christine,"  ventured  her  room-mate  timidly, 
after  a  protracted  silence,  "what  made  you  put  the 
can-opener  in  my  work-basket  ?  " 

"Yes.  Perhaps.  You'll  probably  find  it  in 
Sidgewick,"  was  the  irrelevant  answer. 

"  Oh,  I  pity  any  one  who  has  to  room  with  a  girl 
that  writes,"  thought  Ruth,  as  the  supper-bell  rang; 
and  decided  to  spend  the  evening  with  a  friend. 

But  even  then  the  oration  did  not  get  on  very  fast, 
for  Christine  kept  thinking  of  Philippa  Fairbank. 
She  was  conscious  of  having  thought  about  her  a 
great  deal  that  afternoon,  and  wondered  why  it  was 
that  she  could  not  forget  their  conversation  in  the 
boat. 

"After  all,  it's  nearly  over,"  she  thought,  "and 
that  girl  feels  that  she  has  n't  had  anything  worth 
having.  And  here  I  am,  trying  to  write  an  oration 
on  the  compensations  in  failure ! " 

She  closed  her  notebook  impatiently,  threw  it 
on  the  floor,  and  went  out  into  the  warm  spring 
dusk.  Leonora  Kent  lived  at  the  farther  end  of 
College  Lane,  but  Christine  preferred  to  go  through 
the  hole  in  the  fence,  and  take  a  long  cut  across  the 
campus  grass. 

"  It 's  different  from  other  grass,"  she  thought,  as 
she  felt  it  soft  and  cool  beneath  her  russet  ties.  "  I 
wonder  why!" 

The  apple-blossoms  were  all  white  this  year, 
which  gave  the  back  campus  a  peculiarly  ethereal 
and  spirit-like  appearance;  the  hammocks  were 

372 


TRYING  FOR   DRAMATICS 

found  half  full  of  drifted  petals  every  morning.  But 
to-night  they  were  occupied  by  their  rightful  owners, 
curled  up  in  groups  of  two  and  three,  exchanging 
jests  or  whispered  confidences. 

"  Is  that  you,  Christine  ? "  asked  some  one  as  she 
passed;  but  Christine  hurried  on  without  answering. 

She  found  Leonora  working  by  the  dim  light  of  a 
kerosene  lamp.  "They  forgot  to  fill  it  to-day,"  she 
apologized,  "and  it  smells  horribly.  I'll  blow  it 
out. " 

And  somehow  Christine  found  it  easier  to  say 
what  she  had  come  to  say  in  the  dark. 

"I  think,  Nora,"  she  began,  "that  I  shall  have  to 
give  up  Malvolio,  after  all.  The  Ivy  Oration  takes 
more  time  than  I  thought  it  would,  and  —  Philippa 
Fairbank  really  does  the  part  a  great  deal  better." 

"Oh,  Christine!"  said  Leonora;  and  if  it  had 
not  been  dark,  her  classmate  would  have  seen  how 
disappointed  she  was. 

"I  'm  sorry,"  said  Christine;  "but  you  see  —  " 

"Yes,  I  see  through  you,  if  that's  what  you 
mean.  And  probably  you  think  I  don't  know  just 
how  exactly  like  you  this  arrangement  is!  But  do 
you  really  feel  that  you  owe  her  so  much  as  that?" 

"Perhaps  I  shall  write  a  better  oration,"  faltered 
Christine;  for  the  sacrifice  had  cost  her  a  struggle, 
and  she  knew  it. 

"  Of  course  it  is  for  you  to  decide,  but  —  it  is  n't 
as  if  she  was  a  friend,  or  anything  like  that.  Do 
you  think  that  she  '11  appreciate  —  " 

"She  must  never  know,"  said  Christine,  vehe- 
mently. "Promise  me  that  you'll  never  tell.  I 
trusted  you,  Leonora." 

373 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"I  don't  betray  trusts,"  was  the  answer. 

"And  about  her  not  being  a  friend.  We  are 
classmates,  you  know !  It  means  a  great  deal 
now.  It  will  mean  more  and  more  as  the  years 
go  by." 

Leonora  felt  her  way  to  Christine's  face  and  kissed 
her  tenderly,  although  she  knew  perfectly  well  that 
Christine  was  not  that  kind  of  a  girl.  But  Chris- 
tine did  nothing  more  ferocious  in  return  than  to 
slip  one  arm  around  Leonora's  neck  and  say  meekly, 
"Please  give  me  another  one.  Do  you  know  that 
I  really  think  I  've  grown  to  like  being  kissed  ? 
Isn't  that  humiliating!  I  never  thought  that  I 
should  sink  so  low." 

"I'm  glad  you  belong  to  Ninety-five,"  observed 
Leonora  simply,  as  they  said  good-night. 

It  was  past  nine  when  Christine  reached  home, 
and  as  the  tired  class  President  was  already  in  bed, 
she  decided  to  follow  her  example.  But  the  sleep, 
when  it  came,  did  not  rest  her.  She  dreamed  that  a 
large  white  bird  with  a  soft  breast  carried  her 
swiftly  up  through  the  starlight,  beyond  the  place 
where  the  dark  begins.  They  reached  the  outer 
atmosphere  of  the  world,  flew  upward,  through 
"white  vacancies  of  dawn,"  and  began  to  enter  the 
light  of  another  sun.  The  breast  of  the  bird  was 
warm  with  this  new  gold,  and  sunbeams  quivered  on 
its  wings.  Its  name  was  Ana. 

"It  is  a  new  morning  and  a  new  world,"  she  said. 
"There  must  be  new  thoughts  here,  too."  And  as 
they  went  higher,  they  reached  a  fair  white  forest, 
where  the  thoughts  clung  in  whispers  to  the  branches 
and  dropped  softly  down  upon  that  other  world. 

374 


.  TRYING   FOR   DRAMATICS 

And  she  stopped  to  fill  her  arms  with  the  branches, 
and  hear  what  those  thoughts  were  saying. 

"I  must  take  them  home,"  she  said,  turning  to 
the  wings  that  had  carried  her.  But  the  bird,  vAra, 
was  no  longer  there ;  and  she  heard  the  last  electric 
car  grinding  past  the  house  on  its  way  back  to 
Laurenceburg.  Four  bars  of  white  light  crossed 
the  foot  of  her  bed,  leaped  quickly  to  the  screen, 
and  were  gone.  She  heard  the  car  stop  a  few  blocks 
farther  up  the  street,  and  then  squeak  away  into 
silence. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  the  long-suffering 
Ruth,  turning  over  with  a  sigh;  for  Christine  had 
lighted  a  candle,  and  was  sitting  at  her  desk. 

"Nothing,  only  I've  got  to  write.  I'm  sorry. 
But  don't  speak  to  me;  I  can't  help  it." 

Ruth  looked  at  her  in  amusement,  and  wondered 
if  all  prospective  authoresses  had  such  an  undeniable 
weakness  for  pretty  nightgowns.  The  changing 
flame  of  the  wick  brought  out  unaccustomed  lights 
in  Christine's  hair,  which  tossed,  curly  and  restless, 
down  to  her  waist. 

"Do  you  know,  you  are  lovely  to-night,"  mur- 
mured Ruth,  drowsily.  "  It  really  is  a  pity  that  — 

"Go  to  sleep!"  replied  Christine,  sternly;  and 
Ruth  obediently  turned  her  face  to  the  wall. 

Christine  sat  there,  still  thinking  of  the  bird 
"Az>a  that  had  carried  her  beyond  the  light  of  the 
stars,  and  finished  the  Ivy  Oration. 


375 


CHAPTER     XXI 

THE   COMING   OF  THE   ROSES 

"YES,  that  old  fellow  was  a  character,"  said  Pro- 
fessor Burton.  "  He  flunked  the  whole  Physics 
class  one  day  on  the  question,  '  What  did  Galileo 
most  need? '  and  of  course  we  answered  everything, 
from  'sandwiches'  to  'a  telescope;'  but  none  of 
those  went,  and  at  last  he  said,  *  An  assistant. '  So 
we  remembered,  and  coached  the  next  division  wait- 
ing outside,  for  he  always  asked  the  same  questions 
of  both  classes.  And  when  he  demanded  to  know 
what  Galileo  most  needed,  the  whole  room  answered 
in  unison,  *  An  assistant ! ' 

" '  Gentlemen, '  said  the  old  chap,  with  a  gratified 
smile,  'if  you  will  believe  it,  I  put  this  same  ques- 
tion to  every  gentleman  in  the  first  division,  and 
not  one  of  them  could  answer  it ! ' : 

Professor  Burton  and  several  of  the  Seniors  were 
standing  by  a  window  of  the  Physics  room  in 
Lincoln  Hall,  for  the  "  Symposium  "  was  giving  a 
tea.  These  entertainments  of  the  "Symposium" 
were  considered  by  many  to  be  not  only  unique,  but 
dangerous  in  character,  —  partly  because  they  did 
not  occur  oftener  than  once  in  three  years.  Lemon- 
ade and  coffee  were  served  in  chemical  beakers  and 
test-tubes,  and  something  generally  blew  up  before 

376 


THE   COMING   OF  THE   ROSES 

the  afternoon  was  over;  but  this  added  an  atmos- 
phere of  expectancy  and  plot  interest  to  the  tea, 
which  most  affairs  of  the  kind  do  not  achieve. 
Everywhere  could  be  heard  the  whirring  of  water 
and  the  soft  tinkle  of  glass.  A  little  zinc  battery 
reacted  unassumingly  in  its  retreat  of  H2SO4,  and  a 
row  of  Helmholtz  resonators  stood  like  children  in 
a  class-room,  waiting  to  answer  when  called  upon. 
The  group  around  the  camera-obscura  was  usually 
the  most  lively,  for  the  instrument  was  aimed  at  the 
street,  and  strange  figures  appeared  on  the  ground 
glass.  Now  and  then  a  horse  trotted  past,  with 
quick  little  wiggles  of  its  inverted  legs,  or  a  man 
walked  by  on  his  head,  —  the  sound  of  his  footsteps 
seeming  quite  out  of  proportion  to  the  size  of  his 
feet. 

"Aren't  you  coming  to  our  Faculty  Reception 
to-night,  Professor  Burton?  "  asked  one  of  the  girls. 
"We  'd  like  to  hear  some  more  stories  of  your  aged 
friend." 

"  I  'm  coming  to  the  reception  because  I  want  to 
meet,  your  illustrious  class.  But  I  sha'n't  bring 
any  more  stories,  because  you  know  it'll  be  your 
duty  to  entertain  me,  and  I  never  like  to  inter- 
fere —  " 

Somebody  claimed  his  attention  just  then;  and  as 
he  turned  away,  Mildred  said,  "After  all,  I  believe 
that  he  is  the  nicest  person  on  the  Faculty." 

"Except  Miss  Carlisle,"  objected  some  one  who 
was  not  a  "Scientific." 

"Well,  what  I  like  about  him,"  said  Ruth,  "is 
his  consideration  for  old  Dr.  Burton,  in  not  allow- 
ing himself  to  be  called  '  Doctor, '  although  he  is 

377 


really  a  Ph.D.     It 's  a  little  thing,  but  awfully  dear, 
I  think." 

"  Old "  Dr.  Burton  was  a  retired  minister,  and 
his  son  had  once  said,  "  I  want  you  to  be  the  only 
Dr.  Burton."  It  was,  as  Ruth  said,  a  little  thing, 
but  very  characteristic  of  the  man. 

"  He  is  n't  dependent  upon  his  teaching  at  all,  — 
did  you  know  that?  "  asked  a  Sophomore  in  a  Chem- 
istry apron,  who  had  come  to  oversee  some  experi- 
ment. "His  mother  came  from  the  town  where  we 
live,  and  my  mother  used  to  see  him  when  he  was  a 
child." 

"  Really  ?  "  asked  Mildred,  forgetting  for  a  moment 
the  Sophomore's  tender  age.  "Do  you  remember 
how  he  looked  in  kilts?" 

"No,"  answered  the  Sophomore,  joining  in  the 
laugh  that  followed ;  "  but  my  mother  used  to  know 
Mrs.  Burton,  and  thought  she  was  one  of  the  dearest 
people  that  ever  lived.  She  was  very  young,  you 
know,  when  she  died." 

"We  didn't  know,"  said  Ruth,  gently. 

"And  Dr.  Burton  never  got  over  it,  they  say. 
He  was  a  good  deal  older  than  she,  but  they  loved 
each  other  —  very  much. " 

"  Then  you  must  at  least  have  seen  the  Professor, 
—  after  you  were  born,"  said  Mildred,  respectfully. 

"  No,  not  until  I  came  here.  They  moved  away 
from  Springdale  when  'little  Ken,'  as  they  called 
him,  was  only  four  years  old." 

"Christine,"  said  Ruth,  when  she  went  home, 
"you  really  ought  to  have  come  to  the  tea  this  after- 
noon. We  heard  some  interesting  facts  about  your 
friend  Professor  Burton. " 

378 


THE   COMING   OF  THE   ROSES 

"He  isn't  my  friend  any  more  than  he  is  every- 
body's," replied  Christine,  coldly.  "What  were 
they  ? " 

Ruth  told  her;  but  instead  of  expressing  a  suit- 
able amount  of  sympathy,  she  only  said  :  "  Well,  you 
don't  seem  to  have  discovered  anything  more  extra- 
ordinary than  that  he  was  a  boy  once,  like  other 
men.  What  strikes  me  as  far  more  unusual  is  that 
he  is  a  boy  still.  But,  Ruth,  don't  talk  any  more 
now,  for  I  want  to  finish  this  Hegel  before  supper." 

They  both  went  to  the  Faculty  Reception  at  the 
Hutcheson  that  evening,  and  Christine  managed  to 
secure  a  delightful  though  brief  conversation  with 
Miss  Carlisle.  Then  she  sought  out  Madame 
Rigault,  having  always  cherished  a  secret  admira- 
tion for  that  lady's  dramatic  temperament  and  wit. 
But  Professor  Burton  was  talking  to  half-a-dozen 
Seniors  at  the  other  side  of  the  room,  and  did  not 
appear  to  see  her. 

"  He  's  an  insufferable  bore  not  to  come  and  speak 
to  me,  when  he  knows  that  he  's  the  only  man  here 
worth  talking  to,"  she  thought.  But  this  was  not 
true,  for  most  of  the  Harland  Faculty  are  worth  talk- 
ing to,  especially  when  they  listen  to  what  you  say. 

Christine  went  out  on  the  piazza,  where  eight 
stout  Japanese  lanterns  sputtered  overhead,  and  the 
tables  were  occupied  by  discarded  ice-cream  saucers. 
The  twilight  would  soon  be  replaced  by  a  cheerful 
moon,  and  she  followed  the  path  out  to  the  back 
campus,  where  everything  smelled  delightfully  fresh 
and  cool.  The  hole  in  the  fence  showed  black 
against  the  gray,  but  she  did  not  turn  towards  it 
immediately.  She  thought  of  the  Senior  flower- 

379 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

bed,  and  walked  slowly  back  to  the  Observatory 
steps. 

A  gentleman  in  evening  dress  was  coming  up  the 
slope  in  the  opposite  direction;  but  Christine  did 
not  see  him  until  he  was  nearly  upon  her,  and  then 
she  could  not  help  looking  a  trifle  annoyed. 

"By  Jove!"  said  Professor  Burton,  smiling,  "did 
you  run  away  too?  So  did  I." 

"  I  was  there  for  a  very  long  time,"  said  Christine, 
in  self-defence,  "but  it's  too  hot  to  stay  indoors 
to-night.  And  besides,  I  wanted  to  think." 

"  And  the  presence  of  the  Faculty  interfered  ? 
Well,  I  've  noticed  that  difficulty  myself,  sometimes, 
in  class." 

"If  I  had  ever  been  one  of  your  students,"  said 
Christine,  resentfully,  "I  'd  go  home." 

"  Please  stay  and  talk  to  me,  instead.  I  want  to 
know  what  you  would  like  to  think  about,  if  the 
presence  of  the  Faculty  didn't  interfere." 

"You  were  thinking  very  hard  yourself  a  minute 
ago,"  said  Christine,  "and  I  hadn't  really  begun,  so 
suppose  that  you  make  the  first  move. " 

"Figuratively,  you  mean?  It's  much  too  warm, 
as  you  say,  to  go  indoors.  But  if  you  insist  upon 
knowing,  I  was  thinking  about  an  article  that  I  've 
just  been  reading  on  stomachs.  There  's  a  man  in 
Switzerland  who  says  that  he  could  take  one  out, 
and  the  patient  would  be  happy  and  good,  and  live 
up  to  his  ideals  just  the  same." 

"I  don't  think  that  I  should  like  to  submit  my 
ideals  to  such  a  test,"  said  Christine,  gravely. 

"Nor  I,  either.  It  would  mean  too  much  dis- 
tinction. I  should  be  afraid  that  people  would  love 

380 


THE   COMING   OF   THE   ROSES 

me  for  that  alone,  and  not  for  what  I  really  was. 
Now  it's  your  turn." 

"Well,  I  was  thinking  about  something  very 
different  from  stomachs,  and  yet  often  influenced  by 
them,  —  genius. " 

"It's  too  big  a  subject  to  think  about,  all  in  one 
evening, — that  is,  unless  you're  old  enough  to 
have  discovered  that  genius  is  chiefly  good  hard 
work." 

"It's  something  besides  that,  as  you  know  per- 
fectly well. " 

"  Yes ;  genius  might  be  defined  as  the  ninth  wave, 
if  it  did  not  frequently  turn  out  to  be  the  seven- 
teenth or  the  one  hundred  and  forty-third.  I  'm 
inclined  to  think  that  there  's  no  law  or  reason  in  it. 
An  angel  stands  at  some  mysterious  gate  through 
which  new  souls  must  pass,  and  every  millionth 
soul,  for  instance,  he  seizes  by  the  ear,  and  says, 
*  Here,  you  go  and  be  a  genius  ! '  And  the  soul  may 
be  born  in  the  body  of  a  Scotch  peasant  or  a  king, 
in  a  German  foundling  or  an  American  farm-hand ; 
but  whoever  he  is,  he  has  to  go  and  be  a  genius,  and 
he  has  to  stand  it,  and  so  have  his  friends." 

"Do  you  think,"  asked  Christine,  uncertainly, 
"that  if  one  isn't  a  genius  in  a  certain  line,  it's 
wasting  time  to  keep  on  working  in  that  line,  —  only 
because  you  love  it,  you  know  ? " 

"  People  seldom  '  love '  to  do  things  that  they 
don't  do  tolerably  well,"  said  the  Professor.  "With 
the  exception  of  music,  — which  is  generally  perpe- 
trated by  the  fools  who  have  rushed  in,  —  the  survival 
of  the  fittest  still  prevails.  Nowadays,  if  a  man 
does  a  thing  badly,  we  kill  him.  He  has  to  care  a 

381 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

great  deal  for  his  art,  to  keep  on  building  until  he  's 
out  of  conventional  range.  Then  he  can  sit  there 
and  dangle  his  legs,  and  nobody  can  hit  him.  But 
I  certainly  think  that  we  can  often  judge  of  a 
person's  aptitude  for  his  art  or  science  by  the 
devotion  that  he  has  for  it.  If  his  devotion  is 
genuine,  it  must  have  been  aroused  by  a  genuine 
taste." 

"That 's  rather  encouraging;  but,  after  all,  aren't 
there  more  exceptions  than  there  are  accordances 
with  this  rule?" 

"  If  I  were  a  rule,  I  should  certainly  spend  most 
of  my  time  knocking  my  exceptions  in  the  head. 
They're  so  much  more  valuable  when  there  aren't 
too  many  of  them.  But  for  a  young  person,  the  way 
lies  open  and  clear.  You  don't  need  to  be  an  excep- 
tion when  you  've  got  enough  grit  to  be  a  rule. 
What  you  want  to  do  is  to  go  ahead  in  the  line"  that 
you  're  pretty  certain  you  were  meant  to  take.  Being 
a  genius  is  merely  a  speculation  in  futures,  for 
people  won't  believe  that  you  're  a  genius  until 
you  've  proved  that  you  are  n't  a  precocity.  But 
work  is  certain  and  real." 

"  And  geniuses  must  work  hardest  of  all." 

"  A  genius  has  the  heaviest  load  of  responsibility 
that  any  one  can  bear.  It  isn't  a  credit  to  him  if 
he  surpasses  other  people.  It  would  be  a  disgrace 
if  he  didn't.  But  in  any  case  a  man's  got  to  work 
like  —  well,  he  's  got  to  work,  and  no  one  has  a  right 
to  stake  out  his  capacity  for  him  until  he  's  proved 
himself  a  fool." 

"  Then  the  only  thing  to  do  is  to  work  as  hard 
as  ever  you  can,  no  matter  how  trifling  you  are, 

382 


THE   COMING   OF  THE   ROSES 

and  wait  until  afterwards  to  find  out  what    it   all 
means. " 

"Exactly,"  said  the  Professor. 

"And  the  more  bay  windows  you  can  build  into 
your  house,  the  more  rooms  you  '11  have  that  get  the 
sunshine." 

"The  really  great  man,"  said  the  Professor,  as  if 
thinking  aloud,  "  is  not  great  because  he  is  different 
from  other  people.  He  is  great  because  he  is  like 
so  many  different  kinds  of  people.  And  this  pris- 
matic quality  of  his  makes  him  hard  for  ordinary 
mortals  to  understand.  Therefore  they  fear  him,  — 
whereas  he  is  invariably  meant  to  be  loved." 

The  gentleness  in  his  voice  made  Christine 
wonder  if  they  were  not  both  thinking  of  the  same 
Great  Man,  —  of  the  one  who  had  not  where  to  lay 
his  head.  But  she  could  not  speak  of  this  to  him 
now,  although  she  realized  afterwards  that  they  had 
known  each  other  very  well  for  a  few  minutes  that 
night. 

"Tell  me  about  your  writing,"  said  the  professor, 
suddenly. 

"Well,  there's  nothing  to  tell, — except  that  I 
wish  the  world  was  not  so  impatient  of  young  people 
who  try  to  do  things !  It  says  '  Wait  until  you  're 
older; '  but  how  in  heaven's  name  are  we  ever  to  get 
anything  done  if  we  don't  begin  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  you  would  sympathize  with  the  man  who 
found  the  world  such  a  trying  place  that  he  wanted 
to  get  off  and  walk. " 

"No,  I'd  rather  stay  on  and  travel.  I'm  going 
to  Europe  this  summer  with  Mrs.  Deland  and 
Clare." 

383 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

"  To  be  gone  long  ? " 

"Probably  a  year." 

"And  you  really  think  that  your  work  calls  you 
so  far  away  from  home  ?  " 

Something  in  his  voice  made  Christine  turn  to 
look  at  him,  and  then  she  realized  that  she  had 
never  really  looked  at  him  before.  She  knew  in- 
definitely that  he  was  tall  and  rather  serious,  with  a 
fine  wide  forehead,  that  gave  dignity,  not  eccen- 
tricity, to  his  face.  But  now  she  noticed  that  his 
eyes,  which  might  have  been  any  color,  happened 
to  be  gray,  with  pupils  that  dilated  quickly  when 
he  spoke. 

"  I  love  my  work  better  than  anything,"  she  said. 

"That  is  a  pity,"  he  remarked,  after  a  pause; 
"  because  if  you  cared  for  your  work  only  less  than 
a  few  other  things,  you  might  succeed. " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Christine,  curiously. 

The  college  clock  struck  nine,  and  the  Professor 
sprang  to  his  feet,  saying,  "Good  heavens!  I  had 
an  appointment  with  Comstock  in  my  den  at  eight- 
thirty  this  evening !  But  don't  waste  any  sympathy 
upon  him,  Miss  Arnold,  for  he  knows  how  to  amuse 
himself  in  my  domains,  and  there'll  be  a  whole 
pandemonium  of  microbes  in  the  air  if  I  don't  go 
down  and  tie  him  up." 

"You'd  better  hurry,"  said  Christine,  laughing. 

"  Thanks,  and  —  Miss  Arnold,  I  've  enjoyed  this 
Faculty  Reception  extremely." 

When  Christine  went  home,  she  found  Clare  alone 
in  her  room,  looking  out  at  the  campus.  Clare  did 
not  speak  when  the  door  opened,  so  she  went  and 
curled  up  beside  her  on  the  bed.  Then  "  What  kind 

384 


THE   COMING   OF   THE    ROSES 

of  a  time  did  you  have? "  came  simultaneously  from 
them  both. 

"  Well,  I  met  the  new  Lit  professor, "  said  Clare, 
"and  he's  handsome,  but  rather  shy.  I  went 
around  under  the  stairs  to  get  a  drink  of  water,  and 
he  was  there,  sitting  on  the  cracker-box." 

"I  wonder  that  Ardis  didn't  tackle  him.  She 
prides  herself  on  reassuring  bashful  men." 

"  Oh,  she  was  out  on  the  piazza,  talking  to  Dr. 
Comstock. " 

"What  business  had  that  desirable  M. D.  at  a 
Faculty  reception  ? " 

"  He  'd  come  to  look  for  some  one,  they  said,  — 
Professor  Thorne,  I  think.  But  he  must  have  for- 
gotten about  it,  for  I  met  him  and  Ardis  walking 
down  College  Lane  together  as  I  came  home." 

Christine  began  to  laugh,  and  explained  the  joke 
to  Clare,  adding,  "  I  feel  sorry  for  Dr.  Comstock 
if  he  really  cares  for  Ardis,  and  I  'm  afraid  that 
he  does." 

"Don't  you  think,"  asked  Clare,  hesitatingly, 
"that  it's  better  not  to  have  men  around  —  I  mean 
in  that  way,  of  course  —  until  we  're  out  of  college? 
Of  course  I  don't  know  many  men,  but  I  've  always 
noticed  —  in  the  cases  of  girls  who  do  —  that  they 
interfere  dreadfully  with  the  work." 

"Yes,"  said  Christine,  "I  think  that,  as  a  rule, 
the  best  college  girl  doesn't  go  in  for  that  sort  of 
thing,  any  more  than  the  best  college  man  does. 
The  men  are  interested  in  their  teams  and  societies 
and  college  magazines,  and  girls  are  only  incidental 
until  later;  and  that's  the  way  it  should  be  with 
us." 

2S  385 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"We  should  do  college  thoroughly  while  we  're  in 
it,"  said  Clare,  "and  then  —  " 

"  Do  the  other  thing  thoroughly  when  we  get  out, 
if  we  want  to,"  finished  Christine. 

"I  suppose  that  you  haven't  any  theories  about 
'the  other  thing,'  as  you  call  it,  yet,  have  you?" 
asked  Clare,  bashfully. 

"  Yes,  I  have,  —  but  only  one.  I  believe  that  a 
woman,  in  order  to  be  worthy  of  the  man  she  loves, 
should  first  have  been  worthy  of  herself.  He  may 
not  be  worthy.  I  've  known  of  some  that  weren't. 
But  what  I  mean  is,  that  she  must  be  worthy  of  her 
love  for  him  !  A  life  that  has  been  what  Drummond 
would  call  '  a  tragedy  of  aimlessness '  is  not  the 
right  kind  to  bring  to  a  clear-sighted  man,  who 
knows  what  life  means.  It's  not  what's  going  to 
help  a  man  towards  his  manliness !  But  I  think 
that  we  must  have  caught  the  spring  fever,  to  be 
talking  so  much  about  '  the  other  thing. '  We  never 
did  before." 

"  Perhaps  it 's  because  we  're  older,"  said  Clare. 

"  In  that  case  we  ought  to  know  better.  But 
the  abstract  man  can't  hurt  anybody,  especially  if 
he  doesn't  turn  up;  so  let's  not  be  too  hard  on 
him." 

This  spring  had  been  full  of  new  experiences 
for  Christine.  Strange,  awakening  impulses  had 
walked  by  her  side;  but  when  she  turned  to  ques- 
tion them,  they  were  gone.  "  Perhaps,  as  Clare 
said,"  she  thought  afterwards,  "it 's  because  we 're 
older!" 

The  mornings  grew  warmer  now,  and  the  forsythia 
bush  in  front  of  the  Storey  tossed  out  its  yellow 

386 


THE   COMING   OF  THE   ROSES 

spray  like  a  fountain  of  sunbeams  over  the  turf. 
The  hymn  at  chapel  was  often,  — 

"  Summer  suns  are  glowing 
Over  land  and  sea,"  — 

a  song  that  will  always  suggest  sitting  by  an  open 
window  in  recitation  and  planning  to  go  down 
town,  directly  afterwards,  for  ice-cream  soda. 

"  Life  is  dark  without  thee, 
Death  with  thee  is  bright." 

It  seems  so  much  more  like  a  love-song  than  a 
hymn,  in  that  last  spring  term  at  Harland !  The 
days  vibrate  with  a  sweet  intensity  that  alternates 
with  a  most  inexcusable  sleepiness;  and  it  is  hard 
to  stay  awake  at  Analysis,  no  matter  how  beautiful 
the  music  may  be.  Even  the  irrelevant  strains  of  a 
brass  band  under  the  window  supply  but  a  temporary 
distraction.  And  then  all  of  a  sudden  it  is  the  fare- 
well meeting  of  Phi  Delta  Kappa.  The  plans  of 
the  entertainment  are  concealed  from  the  Seniors, 
and  it  is  a  great  surprise  to  them  all,  when,  after 
the  Society  paper  and  the  little  play,  they  are  in- 
vited to  come  over  to  the  Storey  House  for  refresh- 
ments. Mrs.  Halifax  meets  them  at  the  door  and 
takes  them  into  the  sitting-room,  where  a  great 
open  fire  snaps  a  cheerful  welcome  and  dances  in 
miniature  over  the  keys  of  the  old-fashioned  piano. 
It  is  a  rainy  night,  and  the  girls  pile  their  gossamers 
in  a  shimmering  heap  on  the  hall  table,  while  three 
extra  umbrella  stands  extend  their  hospitable  arms 
to  the  blaze. 

"This  piano  is  always  kept   open  for  you,  little 
387 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

girl,"  said  Mrs.  Halifax,  pinching  Clare's  cheek. 
"I  hope  you  remember."  And  Clare  slipped  her 
hand  into  the  matron's,  saying,  "How  like  you  it 
was  to  think  of  all  this  for  us!" 

"Don't  forget  that  I  have  some  of  the  best  Phi 
Kaps  in  my  own  house,"  said  Mrs.  Halifax,  glanc- 
ing at  Kathleen,  who  was  bringing  in  the  ices. 
"Bless  my  heart,"  with  a  sudden  filling  of  the  eyes, 
"how  I  shall  miss  the  little  torment!" 

After  the  refreshments  had  vanished,  they  turned 
down  the  lights  and  sat  around  the  fire,  singing, 
talking,  and  laughing  until  late.  The  tune  of 
"Where,  oh,  where,"  was  saved  until  the  last  —  not 
because  of  the  "Jolly  Juniors,"  or  even  because  of 
the  "  verdant  Freshmen  "  —  but  because  of  the  "  dear 
old  Seniors,"  who  would  soon  be  far  out  "in  the 
wide,  wide  world." 

"  They  Ve  gone  out  from  their  Alma  Mater, 
They  've  gone  out  from  their  Alma  Mater, 
Safe  now,  in  the  wide,  wide  world." 

"I  move  that  we  adjourn,"  sniffed  Kathleen  from 
behind  a  sofa,  and  everybody  seconded  the  motion. 

The  next  day  was  the  last  Sunday  before  Bacca- 
laureate, —  a  time  when  the  Seniors  think  very  hard 
indeed.  It  is  not  a  day  that  is  openly  set  aside  for 
sentiment,  and  nobody  expects  you  to  be  sad  yet; 
but  how  can  you  help  remembering  at  vespers, 
when  you  listen  to  that  organ  —  and  the  President 
knows  exactly  how  you  feel !  He  talks  to  every  one 
in  the  hall  at  first,  and  it  is  only  at  the  end  that  he 
puts  in  those  few  words  for  you  alone,  that  will  go 
with  you  as  long  as  you  live. 

388 


THE   COMING  OF  THE   ROSES 

He  speaks  of  Who  it  is  that  has  been  with  you 
through  it  all,  and  made  the  disappointments  easier 
to  bear;  for  he  understands  that  even  a  little  world 
may  have  its  sky  and  its  sea.  And  he  speaks  of  the 
Christ  who  is  here,  of  the  Christ  in  the  bravery 
that  has  overcome  all  obstacles  and  is  strong,  and 
of  the  Christ  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  love  one 
another.  Then  there  is  the  prayer,  and  some  of 
the  Seniors  cannot  look  up  until  long  after  the 
Amen. 

This  afternoon  Dr.  Page  improvised  softly  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  then  led  the  chords  into  the  pre- 
lude of  "Oh,  rest  in  the  Lord,"  from  "Elijah,"  and 
Ardis  Hathaway  sang  it.  It  was  the  first  time  that 
she  had  ever  sung  alone  at  vespers,  although  she 
had  often  been  asked  to  do  so,  and  her  friends  were 
both  pleased  and  touched  that  she  should  be  willing 
to  sing  for  them  to-day.  But  others  thought :  "  Per- 
haps she  knows  that  every  one  in  the  class  is  down 
on  her  and  wants  to  leave  a  good  impression  before 
she  goes  away."  And  then  even  these  forgot  every- 
thing else  in  the  sound  of  her  voice:  "Oh,  rest  in 
the  Lord,  wait  patiently  for  him." 

Christine  Arnold  clasped  her  hands  tightly  to- 
gether and  trembled.  It  was  more  like  a  flower 
than  ever,  —  that  voice,  with  new  sweetness  and 
bloom  of  tone.  "  Oh,  rest  in  the  Lord ! " 

And  when  the  song  was  finished,  her  classmates 
could  only  think,  and  be  glad  that  she  belonged  to 
them. 

"There  never  was  such  a  voice,"  said  Christine 
to  Clare  that  night.  "There  never  will  be  again. 
I  wonder  why  it  is  that  the  voice  is  hers ! " 

389 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

She  had  struggled  in  vain  to  make  herself  believe 
that  she  cared  no  more  about  Ardis;  but  a  disap- 
pointment cannot  be  real  if  one  is  able  to  get  over 
loving  the  person  who  caused  it !  And  Commence- 
ment has  a  softening  influence  upon  most  of  us. 
When  we  are  not  too  tired  and  warm  and  cross,  we 
forgive  all  past  injuries,  and  wish  to  be  forgiven  in 
return. 

Christine  had  often  been  guilty  of  wanting  to  be 
Malvolio  again,  and  could  not  help  wishing  that 
Philippa  Fairbank  might  incidentally  break  her  leg 
before  the  night  of  the  first  performance.  But 
Philippa  continued  to  flourish,  and  shame  over- 
whelmed the  desires  of  Christine. 

"Ruth,"  she  said  one  day,  "I  deserve  to  be 
kicked.  Kindly  kick  me." 

"Indeed  I  won't,"  was  the  resentful  reply. 
"You've  been  a  perfect  dear  —  since  the  oration 
was  finished ! " 

"Then,"  said  Christine,  sadly,  "I  shall  be  reluc- 
tantly compelled  to  kick  myself,"  which  she  pro- 
ceeded to  do,  three  times  in  succession.  But  the 
next  day  she  was  wanting  to  be  Malvolio  again  as 
hard  as  ever. 

The  first  dress-rehearsal  took  place  on  Wednesday 
night,  and  bulging  figures  in  waterproofs  scuttled 
down  to  the  Opera  House  through  back  ways.  Each 
new  arrival  was  greeted  with  insulting  shouts  of 
laughter,  for  wigs  did  not  always  fit,  and  mus- 
taches often  brought  on  such  a  violent  fit  of  sneezing 
that  they  had  to  be  removed.  The  supes  and  cur- 
tain-lifters were,  as  Kathleen  stated,  "at  their  best," 
and  quite  extinguished  the  eloquence  of  Sir  Toby  at 

39° 


THE   COMING  OF  THE   ROSES 

one   time   by   whispering   loudly,    "Turn   up   them 
foots ! " 

The  alumnas,  who  had  now  begun  to  flock  back 
in  great  numbers,  made  divers  excuses  to  get  into 
the  House,  running  errands,  and  bringing  messages 
from  real  or  imaginary  friends.  One  of  them,  a 
Ninety-four  girl,  who  had  always  been  known  as  the 
"Friend  of  the  Class,"  waylaid  a  Senior  outside 
Henley's  and  said,  "  Let 's  take  some  ice-cream  to 
the  kids."  That  was  the  only  drawback  in  her  case, 
her  disrespectful  way  of  alluding  to  them.  But  no 
one  minded  a  little  thing  like  that  when  it  came 
to  having  dinners  in  her  room,  and  remembering 
them  forever  afterwards  as  occasions  of  lobster 
and  rejoicing. 

"We  let  in  Miss  P ,  don't  we?  "  asked  Orsino, 

at  the  stage  door,  observing  that  the  alumna  carried 
a  bundle  of  thirty  spoons. 

"  Hurrah  for  the  '  Friend  to  the  Class  ' ! "  shouted 
Kathleen,  who  had  smelled  the  strawberries  from 
way  across  the  stage. 

The  rehearsal  went  better  for  this  cooling  inter- 
lude, although  Sir  Toby  did  lose  out  two  of  his  sofa- 
pillows  in  one  of  the  most  active  scenes,  and  when 
taunted  with  his  lack  of  obesity,  replied:  "Well, 
it's  myself  that  would  n't  wish  to  have  the  appear- 
ance of  Araminta  Appleyard  in  the  character  of 
Antonio  the  Sea  Captain.  She  looks  something  like 
the  earth  might  if  it  forgot  to  put  on  the  equator! " 

"Well,  you  have  stout  tendencies  too,  so  don't 
crow,  Kathleen,"  said  Maria,  stooping  to  tie  the 
shoestrings  of  a  very  portly  priest,  who  was  unable, 
for  obvious  reasons,  to  do  it  for  himself. 

39 i 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

"  What  tendencies,  if  you  please,  my  fair  gull- 
catcher?" 

"Your  arms,  Sir  Toby. " 

"Never  heard  arms  called  tendencies  before," 
said  Sir  Toby,  strutting  up  and  down  the  stage. 
"  '  There  dwelt  a  man  in  Babylon,  lady,  la-dy. ' ' 

"Poor  Leonora  will  be  glad  when  this  is  over!" 
said  the  priest.  "  The  other  night  she  came  to  my 
room  to  borrow  some  camphor  for  a  toothache,  and 
when  I  asked  her  where  the  tooth  was,  she  replied, 
'  In  the  front  row  of  the  balcony,  three  seats  from 
the  aisle,  opposite  the  stage. '  It  turned  out  to  be 
an  eye-tooth,  as  one  might  know;  but  I  've  felt 
uneasy  about  her  ever  since." 

The  next  dress-rehearsal  was  thrown  open  to  the 
Freshmen,  who  were  always  too  numerous  to  be 
accommodated  later  on ;  and  on  Friday  night  came 
the  first  real  performance.  Most  of  the  students 
and  alumnae  patronized  this,  and  the  last  perform- 
ance, on  Saturday,  was  given  for  the  Faculty  and 
guests. 

Sir  Toby  and  the  lovely  Viola  carried  off  the 
highest  honors,  although  all  the  parts  were  well 
taken  and  vigorously  applauded.  Florence  Homer 
and  her  ushers  were  kept  busy  taking  flowers  up  to 
the  performers,  while  the  fathers  and  mothers 
clapped,  laughed,  and  became  tearful  by  turns. 

"Who  'd  ha'  thought  it!"  said  a  dear  old  farmer, 
regarding  his  stout  and  priestly  daughter  with 
pride.  "An'  when  she  come  here  she  was  sech  a 
peaked-lookin'  gel.  Wall,  their  vittles  must  agree 
with  'em,  that's  sartin. " 

The  Taylor  household  had  reserved  seats  for  its 
392 


THE   COMING  OF  THE   ROSES 

relatives  together,  and  the  three  graduating  mothers 
exchanged  lively  confidences  between  acts.  But 
nobody  sees  much  of  the  relatives  before  Ivy  Day, 
as  on  Saturday  night  every  one  is  thinking  about  the 
play.  And  when  at  last  dear  Faith  had  skipped  off 
in  her  red  curly  shoes,  singing,  "  With  hey  ho,  the 
wind  and  the  rain,"  the  audience  clapped  harder 
than  ever,  and  the  orchestra  played  its  best,  for  the 
play  was  at  an  end.  But  the  Seniors  did  not  hear 
all  the  congratulations  that  were  showered  upon 
them,  because  they  were  thinking  that  this  was  the 
end  of  something  else  too. 

Baccalaureate  Sunday  came  in  clear  and  sweet,  like 
a  fine  old  tune ;  but  the  day  was  up  long  before  the 
Seniors  were.  They  spent  a  part  of  the  morning 
chatting  with  the  alumnae  on  the  back  campus,  and 
when  three  o'clock  came,  they  were  hurrying  down 
to  the  church  in  their  fresh  white  dresses,  all  ready 
to  start  from  the  Sunday-school  rooms.  The  long 
procession  walked  slowly  around  to  the  vestry  doors, 
between  two  rows  of  alumnae  who  were  waiting  to 
see  them  pass,  and  then  they  heard  the  music  of  the 
organ,  and  forgot  everything  but  each  other.  It  is 
the  sound  of  the  organ  that  makes  one  turn  pale 
sometimes  while  walking  down  the  sloping  aisles, 
although  there  is  really  no  excuse  for  it.  And  the 
bunches  of  white  daisies  that  partition  off  the 
Senior  seats  are  exceedingly  suggestive  of  a  wed- 
ding, —  until  you  remember  that  there  are  one  hun- 
dred and  forty-eight  others  of  you,  and  realize  that 
your  time  has  not  yet  come ! 

The  service  opens  with  a  stirring  hymn,  and  you 
notice  how  pretty  the  choir  girls  look,  up  there 

393 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

among  the  palms,  with  their  fresh  flowers  and  new 
Leghorn  hats.  You  recollect  afterwards  that  some 
of  them  were  delightfully  sympathetic,  while  others 
only  looked  at  you  curiously,  to  see  if  you  would 
cry.  The  ushers  hover  noiselessly  about  the  vestry 
doors;  the  congregation  keeps  up  a  perpetual  wav- 
ing and  rustling  of  fans,  for  the  day  is  hot;  and  the 
alumnae  in  the  gallery  look  down  at  the  Seniors 
with  tears  in  their  eyes,  because  they  are  no  longer 
alumnae,  out  "  in  the  wide,  wide  world,"  but  Seniors, 
who  have  come  back  to  live  it  over  again  with  you ! 
And  at  the  end  of  the  service,  the  girls  walk 
home  with  such  relatives  as  they  have  been  able  to 
find.  A  car  comes  out  of  a  golden  haze  far  down 
the  street,  and  the  alumnae,  who  are  not  dressed 
up,  scramble  into  it  for  a  long  cooling  ride  before 
supper. 

And  in  the  evening  comes  the  most  beautiful 
service  of  all.  The  college  chapel  is  thrown  open 
to  guests,  and  Dr.  Page  improvises  softly  on  the 
organ  until  the  dusk  has  crept  up  against  the 
windows,  and  the  Seniors  are  glad  that  no  one  can 
see  the  look  on  their  faces  now.  And  at  last  the 
organ  breaks  into  "Praise  God,  from  whom  all 
blessings  flow,"  and  the  whole  audience  rises  to 
sing  it. 

Clare  and  Ruth  had  gone  early  to  save  places  for 
their  friends,  and  when  they  were  all  seated,  Clare 
went  off  again  "for  a  minute,"  as  she  said;  but  half 
an  hour  passed,  and  she  did  not  return.  Mrs. 
Deland  watched  the  crowd  around  the  door,  and 
glanced  anxiously  at  the  fast-filling  chapel. 

"Where  is  the  child?"  asked  Mrs.  Arnold  of 
394 


THE   COMING   OF   THE   ROSES 

Christine;  and  her  daughter  looked  troubled,  but 
only  said,  "I  don't  know." 

It  soon  became  impossible  for  any  one  who  was 
in  to  get  out,  or  for  the  people  who  were  waiting 
outside  to  get  in,  so  Christine  could  not  go  to  look 
for  her;  and  presently  the  music  began. 

Clare  had  gone  downstairs  to  get  a  wrap  of  her 
sister's,  which  had  been  left  in  the  reading-room, 
and  just  as  she  was  coming  out,  a  Marston  House 
Sophomore  thrust  a  note  into  her  hand 

"She's  had  a  telegram,"  said  the  girl.  "Her 
father  is  ill,  and  she  must  go  home  to-morrow 
morning." 

She  opened  the  note  and  read :  — 

I  need  you.     Can  you  come  to  me  ?  —  ARDIS. 

"Perhaps,"  she  thought  on  her  way  down  to  the 
Marston,  "  I  could  not  have  asked  more  than  this, 
even  though  she  had  so  nearly  forgotten  me,  —  that 
she  should  send  for  me  when  she  is  in  trouble ! " 

She  found  Ardis  packing  her  trunk,  assisted  by 
two  Freshmen,  whose  aid  chiefly  consisted  in  admir- 
ing her  various  belongings,  and  sitting  upon  those 
that  needed  to  be  put  in  next.  They  fidgeted 
uneasily  when  Clare  came  in,  and  finally  said  that 
they  would  go. 

"Thank  you  so  much  for  helping  me,"  said  poor 
Ardis,  looking  both  worried  and  tired. 

"Oh,  Miss  Deland,"  exclaimed  one  of  them,  stop- 
ping on  her  way  out,  "  just  look  at  this !  And  on 
the  floor,  too,  Miss  Hathaway!  Really,  you're 
pretty  careless,  if  you  are  a  Senior." 

She  had  found  a  little  miniature  in  a  worn  velvet 
395 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

case,  and  having  examined  it,  held  it  up  for  Clare 
to  see.  It  was  the  picture  of  a  young  and  very 
beautiful  girl  holding  a  little  golden-haired  child  in 
her  arms. 

"  Give  that  to  me ! "  said  Ardis,  snatching  it  from 
her  hand.  "  Pardon  me  for  my  rudeness,  but  it 
can't  possibly  interest  you." 

"I'm  very  sorry,"  said  the  Freshman,  in  a  sub- 
dued voice.  "I  only  looked  at  it  because  it  was 
beautiful,  but  I  didn't  mean  to  annoy  you." 

"It  is  an  old  picture,"  said  Ardis,  feeling  some- 
what ashamed,  "and  both  of  the  people  in  it  are 
dead,  so  —  I  don't  keep  it  around  very  much." 

"I'm  sorry,"  said  the  Freshman  again,  as  she  and 
her  companion  went  out. 

"  Is  he  very  sick,  Ardis  ? "  asked  Clare,  sitting 
down  on  the  floor  beside  the  trunk. 

"No  —  that  is  —  the  telegram  didn't  say  he  was 
sick.  It  was  from  the  housekeeper,  and  she  only 
said,  '  Come  home  immediately. ' ' 

"Then  perhaps  it  isn't  anything  very  bad.  Let 
me  put  in  these  other  things.  You  are  tired  out." 

"No,  indeed,  I  didn't  ask  you  to  come  down  and 
help  me  pack,  for  you  know  perfectly  well  that  you 
haven't  the  remotest  idea  how  to  do  it!  And  I  'm 
rather  particular  about  my  gowns.  What  I  did  want 
was  sympathy,  —  not  the  bewailing,  conventional 
sympathy  that  other  people  give,  but  the  kind  that 
takes  you  by  the  hand  and  is  silent.  That 's  why  I 
sent  for  you. " 

"It  was  very  good  in  you,"  said  Clare,  softly. 
"  I  'm  glad  you  did.  I  don't  know  how  I  could  have 
borne  it  if  —  you  had  n't." 

396 


THE   COMING'  OF  THE   ROSES 

"I  want  to  say  good-bye  to  this  place,"  said 
Ardis,  turning  down  the  gas,  "and  you  must  come 
with  me.  It  won't  take  long,  for  none  of  the  things 
that  I  want  to  take  leave  of  will  care.  Caring  is 
what  consumes  the  time  and  energy  of  the  world. 
Doing  claims  but  a  small  share." 

"  Where  shall  we  go  first  ? "  asked  Clare,  as  they 
started  out ;  it  was  all  that  she  could  say. 

"Down  College  Lane.  You  can  hear  the  frogs 
better  there.  I  wonder  how  long  it  will  be  before 
all  these  old  shanties  are  swept  away,  and  the  cam- 
pus reaches  down  to  the  lake.  Now  up  by  the 
green-house,  —  don't  step  on  those  plants,  Clare. 
Why,  what's  the  matter  with  your  eyes?  How 
young  and  uncertain  our  botanical  gardening  looks ! 
And  let 's  stop  for  a  minute  on  the  Observatory 
steps.  I  shall  always  remember  that  we  can  see  the 
lake  from  here.  And  then  the  hammock,  up  be- 
tween the  spruce-trees,  where —  Let's  stay  here  a 
minute  longer  for  '  Auld  Lang  Syne. ' '  They  visited 
each  favorite  spot  on  the  campus,  and  stole  into  the 
great,  empty  Gymnasium,  where  the  wind  sighed  in 
the  shadows,  and  rustled  the  fading  wreaths  left 
over  from  the  Junior-Senior  reception.  And  then 
they  went  into  the  little  old  organ-room  in  the 
Music  Building,  where  Clare  asked,  "Won't  you 
sing?  "  And  Ardis  answered,  "Not  to-night." 

But  she  wiped  off  the  familiar  keys  very  tenderly 
with  her  handkerchief,  and  closed  the  instrument  as 
gently,  Clare  thought,  as  if  she  were  laying  a  rose 
in  the  hand  of  a  child  that  is  asleep  for  the  last 
time.  And  then  they  went  out,  and  sat  on  the 
College  steps  with  their  arms  around  each  other. 

397 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Dr.  Page  was  playing  "Elsa's  Entrance  to  the 
Cathedral,"  and  the  faint  cry  of  the  "Swan's  Song," 
drifted  out  through  the  open  window.  After  this 
came  a  suggestion  of  Mendelssohn,  and  the  grave 
march  of  Schumann  chords ;  for  the  player  wandered 
along  in  a  musical  twilight  of  his  own,  stopping  to 
look  closely  in  the  faces  of  those  whom  he  met. 
Long  lanes  he  traversed,  with  the  scent  of  cinnamon 
roses  through  the  dusk,  and  crowded  city  streets, 
with  the  quick  pulsing  of  hurried  feet.  Then  the 
breath  of  the  arbutus  crept  into  it  all,  and  Dr.  Page 
was  playing  the  "  Ivy  Song. " 

"  Oh,  I  had  forgotten !  "  Clare  said,  as  Ardis  took 
her  hand ;  but  she  remembered  now  that  Dr.  Page 
always  played  the  "  Ivy  Song "  at  the  end  of 
Baccalaureate  Sunday. 

"Clare,"  cried  Ardis,  suddenly,  "I  must  tell 
you  — 

But  her  voice  was  drowned  by  the  scraping  of 
chairs  in  the  chapel  above,  as  the  audience  rose  to 
sing.  Then  the  notes  of  the  fine  old  hymn  filled 
the  evening  all  around,  and  Clare  and  Ardis  sang 
too,  because  they  could  not  help  it :  "  Praise  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost." 

"Clare,"  said  Ardis  again,  "come  away,  some- 
where —  anywhere.  There  is  something  that  I 
must  tell  you.  Come  over  to  the  Art  Gallery  steps. 
No  one  will  disturb  us  there." 

And  when  they  had  seated  themselves  in  the 
shadow  of  the  great  elm,  she  said :  "  Clare,  my 
father  is  n't  ill,  and  I  told  the  housekeeper  to  send 
that  telegram.  I  want  to  go  home,  because  —  I 
haven't  any  one  to  walk  with  Ivy  Day  or  Com- 

398 


THE   COMING   OF  THE   ROSES 

mencement."  Clare  started  to  speak;  but  Ardis 
said  :  "  Wait,  let  me  tell  you.  I  was  going  to  walk 
with  Christine  to-rnorrow,  you  know.  We  settled 
that  Freshman  year,  and  now  she  doesn't  want  to 
walk  with  me,  and  all  the  other  girls  that  I  asked 
were  engaged.  I  put  it  off  too  long,  perhaps ;  but  I 
thought  of  course  —  I  thought,"  with  a  sudden  choke 
in  her  voice,  "that  some  one  would  be  willing  to 
walk  with  me." 

The  bitter  fruits  of  her  selfishness  had  come  home 
to  her  at  last,  and  she  had  been  hoping,  child-like, 
that  they  might  be  different! 

"Ardis,  I  can't  believe  this,  I  can't!  Oh,  it  is 
dreadful!"  said  Clare.  "And  you  never  told  me? 
Why  didn't  you  ask  me  to  walk  with  you  Com- 
mencement ?  I  would  at  least  have  been  better  than 
nobody.  And  I  kept  that  day  open  until  two  weeks 
ago,  in  case  that  you  should  want  me  at  the  last.  I 
had  been  hoping  and  hoping  that  you  would  want  me. " 

The  fact  that  Ardis  had  not  asked  her  for  one  of 
the  three  Commencement  "  walks  "  was  a  source  of 
genuine  grief  to  Clare,  but  she  dared  not  take  the 
initiative  for  fear  that  Ardis  would  refuse;  and  in 
this  surmise  she  was  quite  correct,  for  Ardis  had 
been  intending,  until  the  last,  to  ask  only  the  most 
prominent  girls  to  walk  with  her.  And  when  she 
had  finally  decided  upon  those  who  were  to  be 
favored,  the  favored  ones  were  already  engaged. 
She  then  descended  to  those  who  were  only  less 
favored,  but  they,  too,  preferred  to  walk  with  some 
one  else.  It  was  humiliating  in  the  extreme,  and 
there  was  something  a  little  sadder  than  humiliation 
in  it. 

399 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

"What  makes  you  think  that  Christine  doesn't 
want  to  walk  with  you  ? "  asked  Clare,  evolving  a 
sudden  plan ;  for  she  and  Christine  had  arranged 
the  year  before  to  walk  together  on  Ivy  Day;  and 
now  she  understood  why  Christine  had  asked  her. 
"  But  she  might  have  asked  me  for  one  day,  anyway," 
she  thought,  stopping  for  a  minute  to  bind  consola- 
tion on  her  own  wounds. 

"  I  'm  sure  that  she  still  wants  to  walk  with  you," 
she  continued,  adding  to  herself  that  this  was  quite 
true.  "And  if  she  is  expecting  to,  it  would  be 
dreadful  in  you  to  go  away.  I  'm  going  to  find  out 
this  very  night,  and  let  you  know.  It  will  be  easy 
enough  to  find  out,  —  and  if  it 's  all  right,  of  course 
you  would  n't  tJdnk  of  going  home." 

"I  could  stay  over  Ivy  Day,  I  suppose,"  said 
Ardis,  drearily,  "and  go  home  Tuesday  morning." 

"Ardis,  you  must  n't  go,  you  sha'n't  go!  What 
do  you  mean  by  telling  me  that  you  're  going  ?  How 
dare  you  go  ? "  Clare  stopped  to  take  breath,  and 
regarded  Ardis  defiantly.  "  Are  you  going  to  be  a 
coward?"  she  asked. 

"  What  would  you  advise  me  to  do  about  it  ? " 

"  Why,  walk  three,  of  course.  Everybody  knows 
that  there  's  an  odd  number  in  the  class,  and  if  you 
walk  with  Grace  and  me,  nobody  will  know  which 
the  odd  one  is.  They'll  think  it  's  me,  if  we  put 
you  between  us,  because  I  've  never  been  an  important 
person." 

Ardis  had  the  grace  to  blush,  although  it  was 
dark,  and  said,  "  I  would  never  accept  it  from  you. " 

"Accept  it?  Nonsense!  Which  do  you  think 
I'd  rather  do?  Have  a  few  people  whom  I  don't 

400 


THE   COMING   OF  THE   ROSES 

care  for  think  something  of  no  importance  about 
me?  or  go  through  Commencement  knowing  that 
you  'd  run  away  because  you  hadn't  the  courage  to 
remain  ? " 

"You  forget  that  our  weaknesses  may  lie  in 
different  directions,  Clare.  You,  for  instance, 
don't  care  at  all  what  people  think  of  you." 

"  Yes,  I  do, "  said  Clare.  "  If  people  don't  like  me, 
I  want  to  knock  them  down." 

"As  conducive  to  affection?  Clare,  you  have 
called  me  a  coward  twice  to-night.  Did  you  ever 
know  me  to  be  afraid  of  physical  danger  ?  " 

"  No.  I  remember  the  time  when  Maude's  room 
caught  on  fire  and  you  put  it  out ;  and  the  girls  told 
me  about  that  time,  this  year,  when  there  was  a 
sneak  thief  in  the  house,  and  you  went  downstairs 
alone  with  a  candle  and  scared  him  away." 

"And  yet  I  dislike  adverse  opinion  so  much  that 
if  I  had  really  expected  to  meet  the  thief,  I  should 
have  put  on  my  best  clothes  !  " 

"  Ardis,  you  are  driving  me  absolutely  wild  !  Do 
say  that  you  will  stay  to  Commencement,  and  I  '11 
do  anything  in  this  world  that  I  can  to  make  it 
easier." 

"  If  you  really  cared  for  me,  you  would  n't  ask  me 
to  do  a  thing  that  would  drive  me  absolutely  wild." 

"Perhaps  I  'd  better  go  home,"  said  Clare,  rising. 
"  If  you  think  now,  at  the  end,  that  I  don't  care  for 
you,  it 's  all  of  no  use." 

"  Come  back,  you  foolish,  pathetic  little  child ! " 

said    Ardis,    drawing   Clare    down    into   her  arms. 

"I'm   not   worth   crying  over,  dear.     I  don't  ever 

cry   over   myself   any  more,    just   for  that  reason. 

26  401 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

There  's  nothing  like  reason,  you  know.  And  I 
will  stay  and  '  walk  three '  at  Commencement,  if,  as 
you  think,  Christine  will  want  me  for  Ivy  Day.  It 
won't  really  hurt  me  to  walk  three,  because  when 
one  has  fairly  started  falling  in  people's  esteem,  the 
velocity  increases  as  one  approaches  the  bottom." 

"I  '11  go  and  find  Christine,"  said  Clare. 

"  She  won't  be  at  home  yet.  They  were  going  to 
sing,  or  do  something,  over  at  the  Hillard.  And 
besides,  I  want  to  talk  to  you  to-night.  I  want  to 
tell  you  —  and  yet  how  can  I  ?  You  're  such  a  little 
thing." 

"Ardis,"  asked  Clare,  suddenly,  "why  did  you 
say  that  the  baby  in  the  picture  was  dead  ?  " 

"Hasn't  it  been  said  that  '  no  child  dies  so  com- 
pletely as  the  child  who  lives  to  grow  up  '  ?  " 

"I  didn't  know  that  your  hair  was  light  when  you 
were  little,"  said  Clare,  as  if  she  had  not  heard  her. 
"  It 's  so  very  dark  now.  And  your  mother  —  Ardis, 
you  look  exactly  like  her." 

"No,  I  look  like  my  father.  I  'm  sure  that  I  do. 
And  about  the  hair  —  I  only  know  of  its  color 
through  this  picture,  for  everybody  who  would  have 
remembered  about  it  is  dead. " 

"Your  father — "  Clare  began;  but  Ardis  said: 
"He  's  a  man;  and  besides,  he  did  n't  see  much  of 
me  when  I  was  little.  Of  course  some  men  would; 
but  the  circumstances  were  painful,  and —  Oh, 
Clare,  I  never  had  a  chance ! " 

"  Can't  you  tell  me  about  it  ? "  asked  Clare,  tak- 
ing her  hand. 

"Yes,  I  will  tell  you,  because  perhaps  it  will 
make  you  sorrier  for  me  and  help  you  to  under- 

402 


THE   COMING   OF   THE   ROSES 

stand.  Clare,  my  mother  didn't  die  when  I  was  a 
baby,  —  not  till  long  afterwards.  But  I  never  saw 
her  when  I  was  a  child,  because  —  she  had  run 
away. " 

"  Ardis ! " 

"  She  left  me  before  I  could  walk,  and  went  on 
the  stage  as  an  opera-singer.  And  —  there  were 
other  things.  She  had  a  wonderful  voice,  and  had 
always  been  an  ambitious  girl.  And  she  was  beau- 
tiful !  I  don't  know  any  more  about  her,  because 
my  father  never  would  hear  her  mentioned.  We 
had  no  near  relatives,  and  my  nurse  told  me  that 
she  was  dead.  I  had  thought  that  she  was  dead 
until  I  was  nearly  fifteen  years  old.  Then  she 
really  did  die,  and  I  overheard  something  about  it. 
There  was  nobody  to  help  me,  nobody  to  explain. 
I  haven't  been  the  same  person  since." 

"  My  dearest,  my  dearest ! " 

"You  people  who  have  had  mothers  to  stand 
between  you  and  your  imagination,  —  to  shield  you 
from  yourself  and  the  dreadfulness  of  the  world, 
and  keep  you  from  finding  out  all  kinds  of  things 
too  soon,  — why  should  n't  you  have  high  ideals,  and 
beautiful  conceptions  of  what  you  see  around  you? 
What  can  you  know  of  absolute  loneliness?  My 
father  used  to  spend  night  after  night  at  his  desk  in 
the  library,  thinking,  thinking,  with  his  head  in  his 
hands,  and  when  I  was  little,  I  used  to  come  down- 
stairs for  him  to  kiss  me." 

"And  he  did,"  cried  Clare.  "He  did—  because 
he  must ! " 

"  Sometimes  he  did  and  sometimes  he  did  n't.  One 
night  there  was  a  picture  that  I  had  not  seen  before 

403 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

on  his  desk.  It  was  one  of  my  mother,  I  suppose; 
for  when  I  spoke  he  started,  and  looked  at  the 
picture,  but  never  looked  at  me." 

Clare  had  seen  Mr.  Hathaway  two  years  ago, 
when  Ardis  'spent  a  vacation  in  New  York,  and 
remembered  him  as  a  tall,  dark  man,  with  eyes  that 
were  sometimes  cynical  and  more  often  sad. 

"He  isn't  interested  in  my  Commencement," 
went  on  Ardis,  hurriedly,  "and  I  told  him  not  to 
come,  because  I  felt  almost  sure  that  he  did  n't  want 
to.  It  hurts  him  to  see  me  sometimes.  I  suppose 
because —  But  you  are  such  a  little  thing!  And 
that's  one  reason  why  I  want  to  go  home.  I  don't 
like  to  stay  and  be  a  poor  alley-cat  with  no  relatives 
to  care;  the  only  one  in  the  class  with  no  one  to 
send  me  flowers,  and  be  —  be  proud,  you  know,  and 
look  at  me  the  way  your  mother  looks  at  you." 

She  was  crying  now,  although  she  had  said  that 
she  was  so  unworthy  of  compassion ! 

"Ardis,"  said  Clare,  "you  can  have  half  of  my 
mother,  and  half  of  Ethel,  and  half  of  Ned,  too  — 
if  you  want  him,"  she  finished  doubtfully,  knowing 
that  Ardis  had  many  swains  of  her  own.  But  she 
could  not  have  suggested  anything  better,  for  Ardis 
laughed  through  her  tears,  and  said,  — 

"  I  knew  that  you  would  do  me  good,  although  I 
didn't  expect  that  you  would  upset  all  my  plans. 
But  forget  what  I  've  told  you  to-night,  or  rather, 
remember  just  enough  to  keep  you  sorry  for  me  as 
long  as  you  live.  Some  day  you  may  hear  of  a 
wrong  that  I  did  one  of  your  friends  here  at  college 
—  she  was  my  friend  too." 

And  poor  Ardis  stopped  to  struggle  pitifully  with 
404 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  ROSES 

another  rush  of  tears,  as  she  unconsciously  echoed 
Christine's  words  of  the  year  before:  "She  was 
my  friend ! " 

"You  needn't  tell  me  about  that,"  said  Clare, 
kissing  her  arm  through  the  thin  slee've,  "because 
I  know.  I  've  known  a  long  time.  And  what  right 
would  a  person  like  me  have  to  judge  you?  I'm 
simply  abominable  myself,  most  of  the  time.  And 
it  is  true,  as  you  say,  that  everybody's  temptations 
lie  in  different  directions.  We  are  absolutely  unfit 
to  judge  each  other  unless  we  have  been  tried  in 
the  same  direction  and  have  stood  our  ground. 
Then  we  don't  care  to  judge,  because  we  are  too 
busy  being  thankful.  But  what  I  wanted  to  say  was 
that  I  love  you,  love  you,  love  you  !  Do  you  under- 
stand?" 

"I  believe,"  said  Ardis,  turning  rather  pale, 
"that  you  have  been  caring  a  little  —  right  along. 
I  wish  I  'd  known." 

And  as  Clare  rose  to  go  home,  she  was  filled  with 
a  sweet  and  pardonable  rejoicing  that  Ardis  did 
know  at  last! 

She  found  Christine  alone  in  her  room,  for  the 
Ivy  Orator  had  been  sent  to  bed  early,  and  Ruth 
was  taking  care  of  the  relatives.  But  Christine  was 
thinking  too  hard  to  sleep. 

"Is  it  true,"  she  asked,  when  Clare  came  in, 
"that  Ardis  has  had  a  telegram  calling  her  home? 
A  Marston  House  girl  told  us  where  you  were,  and 
said  that  was  the  reason." 

"She's  going  home,"  said  Clare,  "because  she 
hasn't  any  one  to  walk  with  to-morrow  or  at  Com- 
mencement." 

4°5 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

"  What!" 

"  She  told  me  that  she  had  promised  to  walk  with 
you  Ivy  Day,  and  then  that  —  there  had  been  trouble. 
You  must  write  her  a  note  saying  that  you  are 
expecting  to  walk  with  her  to-morrow,  and  I  '11  take 
it  down  to  the  Marston  to-night." 

"But  I  'm  not  expecting  to  walk  with  her.  There 
is  every  reason  in  the  world  why  I  should  n't;  and 
besides,  I  want  to  walk  with  you." 

"  Would  you  let  her  go  home  because  she  has 
nobody  for  to-morrow?" 

"  It  is  n't  my  fault  if  she  has  n't  engaged  some  one 
to  walk  with.  And  if  I  walk  with  her,  what  will 
become  of  you  ?  And  in  any  case  I  know  that  she 
does  n't  want  to  walk  with  me.  You  don't  under- 
stand the  circumstances,  Clare." 

"  Perhaps  I  understand  them  better  than  you 
think,  and  I  want  to  tell  you  something.  If  you 
refuse  to  go  with  her  to-morrow,  you  will  be  doing 
one  person  a  wrong  that  all  the  success  and  self- 
sacrifice  of  your  college  course  cannot  make  up  for. 
You  will  walk  with  her  to-morrow ;  you  must ! " 

"Would  you  mind  telling  me  why?" 

"  Because  she  loves  you  —  is  n't  that  reason 
enough?  And  because  you  love  her." 

"You  forget,"  said  Christine,  "that  Ardis  and  I 
are  no  longer  friends.  We  found  out  after  a  while 
that  we  were  entirely  uncongenial,  and  have  seen 
very  little  of  each  other  since." 

"I  have  always  thought,"  said  Clare,  "that  the 
people  who  love  us  place  a  large  amount  of  respon- 
sibility in  our  hands.  We  control  a  certain  share 
of  their  happiness  and  self-respect,  just  as  they 

406 


THE   COMING  OF  THE   ROSES 

control  a  certain  share  of  ours.  And  the  fact  that 
Ardis  still  loves  you  makes  it  impossible  for  you  to 
throw  her  over  in  this  way.  Before  that  editorial 
affair,  when  you  found  out  what  she  really  was  —  " 

"  Who  told  you  ? "  asked  Christine,  turning  upon 
her. 

"Never  mind;  it's  enough  that  I  know.  But 
before  that  happened,  she  understood  that  you  did 
not  know  her  at  all,  and  that  your  respect  for  her 
came  through  not  knowing.  But  now  all  that  is 
changed ;  you  do  know,  and  if  you  make  her  under- 
stand that  you  still  care  for  her,  she  will  think  that 
there  is  something  left  in  her  to  respect.  Then  she 
will  begin  anew,  and  live  up  to  your  opinion." 

"She  does  not  care  for  my  opinion,"  interrupted 
Christine. 

"  If  you  set  a  mark  for  a  person's  height  one  day, 
and  he  falls  below  it,  when  you  come  again  he  will 
have  grown  the  distance  between.  It 's  the  law  of 
life,  and  because  this  girl  loves  you,  a  part  of  her 
life  has  been  placed  in  your  hands.  It  is  for  you  to 
say  whether  she  shall  steal  away  with  her  head 
down,  or  take  new  courage  and  try  again!" 

"But  walking  with  her  on  Ivy  Day!  That's 
such  a  trifling  thing.  I  can't  see  that  the  question 
of  self-respect  is  deeply  involved  in  it,  except,  of 
course,  that  seeking  her  out  at  the  end  will  give 
her  the  impression  that  I  've  ceased  to  disapprove  of 
what  she  did.  It  wasn't  the  wrong  to  me  that  I 
minded,  but  the  horrible  wrong  to  herself  —  the  lack 
of  loyalty  and  uprightness  and  moral  stability  — 
and  everything.  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  'm  one 
particle  better  than  she.  I  know  I'm  not;  but  I 

407 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

happen  to  detest  her  particular  kind  of  failing. 
And  I  don't  doubt  that  she  detests  mine  with  equal 
cordiality.  So  what  is  the  use  of  forcing  us  into 
one  another's  society?" 

"Do  you  really  think  that  you  would  be  counte- 
nancing what  she  did  by  walking  with  her  fifteen 
minutes  to-morrow  morning?  Does  the  doctor  who 
provides  the  medicine  vindicate  the  presence  of 
disease?  Do  you  think  that  the  person  who  lends  a 
helping  hand  connects  himself  by  necessity  with 
the  trouble  that  caused  the  downfall  ?  " 

"No;  but  I  can't  explain  it  to  you,  because  we  're 
arguing  from  different  points  of  view.  If  she  still 
cared  for  me  — 

"  Oh,  Christine !  if  you  could  have  heard  her  voice 
to-night  when  she  spoke  of  you  and  said,  '  She  was 
my  friend  ! '  ' 

"  Don't ! "  cried  Christine,  thrusting  out  her  hands 
as  if  to  ward  off  something  that  would  hurt  her  if  it 
came. 

"  Has  it  ever  occurred  to  you  that  you  could  never, 
if  you  lived  a  thousand  years,  despise  her  as  much 
as  she  despises  herself  ?  And  are  you  sure  that  you 
know  how  many  temptations  she  has  struggled  and 
struggled  with,  every  day  of  her  life,  before  she 
made  this  qne  mistake?  Wrongdoing  is  seven- 
eighths  underwater,  like  an  iceberg;  and  for  every 
time  that  a  person  yields,  there  must  have  been  at 
least  seven  times  that  he  wrestled  for  life  with  the 
dreadful  thing,  and  threw  it  down  and  overcame  it. 
I  haven't  had  an  easy  time  myself,  and  I  know." 

"  Possibly  I  do,  too.  But  you  persist  in  misun- 
derstanding me,  Clare.  I  'm  not  whited  sepulchre 

408 


THE   COMING   OF  THE   ROSES 

enough  to  keep  Ardis  at  a  distance  only  for  what 
she  has  done.  But  what  she  did  has  convinced  me 
that  she  has  ceased  to  care  for  me,  and,  such  being 
the  case,  I  don't  see  why  I  should  thrust  myself 
upon  her." 

"  Suppose  it  should  turn  out,  after  all,  that  she  did 
care  for  you,"  said  Clare,  quietly.  "It  would  be 
rather  a  bad  thing  to  look  back  upon,  wouldn't  it, 
—  to  remember  that  you  'd  thrown  her  over? " 

"  Yes. "     The  color  had  gone  from  her  face  now. 

"  It  would  be  even  worse  to  remember  that  than 
to  think  that  you  had  descended  to  the  level  of 
Christ,  and  taken  her  by  the  hand !  You  see  even  if 
she  didn't  want  your  love,  she  would  need  it  all  the 
more.  No  woman  ever  gets  enough  love  in  this 
world,  and  no  person  can  have  too  much.  To  forget 
everything  that  has  happened,  and  help  her  to  begin 
again, — that's  what  Christ  meant  when  he  said, 
'  Love  one  another. ' ' 

"  What  shall  I  say  in  the  note  ?  "  asked  Christine 
quietly,  going  to  her  desk. 

"Write  it  just  as  if  you  were  both  in  the  long 
ago,  when  it  wasn't  necessary  to  explain." 

Christine  thought  a  minute,  and  then  wrote :  — 

DEAR  ARDIS,  —  Please  don't  forget  that  you  promised  to 
walk  with  me  to-morrow.  CHRISTINE. 

"  Will  this  do  ?  "  she  asked,  handing  it  to  Clare. 

"  It  is  n't  for  me,  so  I  won't  read  it ;  but  you  know 
whether  it  will  do  or  not,  and  so  will  Ardis. " 

She  studied  Christine's  face  curiously  for  a 
minute,  and  then  kissed  her  on  the  forehead,  as  if 
satisfied  with  what  she  saw. 

409 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"Wait,"  called  Christine,  as  she  went  to  the 
door;  "if  I  walk  with  Ardis  to-morrow,  what  is  to 
become  of  you? " 

"Oh,  I  shall  be  all  right,"  was  the  cheerful 
answer.  "I  '11  look  out  for  myself,  I  promise  you." 

She  was  not  gone  long,  and  when  she  came  back, 
Christine  was  still  sitting  at  her  desk;  but  the  room 
was  dark. 

"I've  brought  you  something,"  said  Clare,  feel- 
ing her  way  to  the  window.  "  It  was  thinking 
aloud,  or  else  I  should  n't  have  found  it.  They 
were  late  this  year,  weren't  they?  But  perhaps  it 
was  because  they  did  n't  want  us  to  go.  You  are 
the  Ivy  Orator,  so  I  thought  you  ought  to  have  it." 

She  slipped  a  cool,  long-stemmed  flower  into 
Christine's  hand,  and  went  softly  out  of  the  room. 
Christine  lifted  it  suddenly  to  her  face,  and  when 
she  laid  it  down  again  her  eyes  were  wet. 

It  was  the  first  of  the  Senior  roses ! 


410 


CHAPTER   XXII 
"THE  GLORIOUS  CLASS  OF  NINETY-FIVE!" 

IVY  DAY  opened  with  a  soft  mist  over  the  trees 
and  through  the  grass,  but  the  people  who  under- 
stood South  Harland  knew  that  this  would  burn 
away  before  long.  Clare  had  a  Glee  Club  rehearsal 
at  eight  o'clock,  and  they  practised  with  the  Banjo 
Club  for  the  grand  pihe  de  resistance  of  the  evening. 
When  they  came  out  to  chapel,  the  awning  was 
already  flapping  over  the  seats  arranged  in  front  of 
the  side  entrance,  and  the  Junior  ushers  were  flying 
about  like  distracted  kittens.  Chapel  was  longer 
than  usual,  and  the  Seniors  barely  had  time  to  get 
into  their  white  dresses  and  down  to  the  Hillard 
House  before  ten  o'clock  came.  And  it  is  quite 
certain  that  no  Senior  would  have  made  her  appear- 
ance at  all,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  obliging  under- 
class friends,  who  put  in  the  final  stick-pins,  tied 
the  ribbons  that  went  behind,  and  took  the  Ivy 
Day  roses  out  of  the  washbowl,  where  they  lay 
muffled  in  a  wet  towel. 

"  How  do  you  feel,  Christine?"  asked  some  one, 
as  she  escaped  from  the  kodaks  which  pursued  her 
across  the  lawn,  and  joined  her  classmates  on  the 
Hillard  steps. 

"I  am  thinking  of  Ninety-five,"  she  said.  And 
when  the  long  procession  had  wound  slowly  down 

411 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

past  the  Warren,  and  up  the  Storey  House  walk  to 
the  college  steps,  it  was  the  thought  of  Ninety -five 
that  was  with  her  still,  and  helped  her  to  be 
unafraid. 

The  Leader  of  the  Glee  Club  did  not  walk  in  the 
procession,  to-day,  behind  the  Class  President  and 
the  Ivy  Orator,  as  other  leaders  had  done,  but  was 
"late  in  dressing,"  she  said,  and  joined  her  class 
from  the  reading  room  when  it  reached  the  steps. 
The  tuning-fork  which  she  carried  in  her  belt  gave 
the  pitch  for  "Fair  Harland,"  and  after  this  came 
the  "President's  Welcome,"  which  Ruth  delivered 
in  her  sweetest  and  most  straightforward  way.  And 
then  a  distinguished-looking  man  near  the  front, 
with  white  hair  and  flashing  gray  eyes,  placed  his 
hand  on  his  wife's,  as  she  said  nervously:  "Oh,  do 
you  suppose  the  awning  will  come  down  over  our 
heads?  It  would  frighten  her  to  death  if  it  did." 

And  Christine,  who  would  have  "fought  and 
bled  and  died"  for  Ninety-five,  delivered  her  ora- 
tion as  a  daughter  of  that  white-haired  man  should 
have  done,  saying  what  she  had  to  say  bravely, 
"truthfully,  and  well."  And  through  it  all  she  saw 
her  father's  face;  and  after  it  was  over,  the  sound  of 
his  voice  as  he  said,  "Well  done,  Christine!" 
meant  more  to  her  than  all  the  congratulations  of 
Faculty  and  students  combined.  They  were  strangely 
alike,  these  two,  —  she  with  her  rigid  purity  of 
honor,  and  he  with  the  remembrance  of  one  senato- 
rial term  lost  because  he  had  adhered,  in  spite  of 
opposition,  to  that  firm  uprightness  of  principle 
which  often  goes  astray  in  political  campaigns. 

"Papa,  I  want  you  to  meet  Clare,"  she  said;  and 
412 


"GLORIOUS   CLASS   OF  NINETY-FIVE!" 

when  the  Leader  of  the  Glee  Club  looked  up  timidly 
at  this  six  feet  two  of  senatorial  dignity,  she  saw 
something  in  his  face  that  was  so  like  Stephen  and 
Christine  that  she  forgot  to  be  afraid  of  him  at  all. 

"Why  didn't  you  walk  in  the  procession?"  he 
asked  quizzically.  "My  younger  son  told  me  to 
be  sure  and  look  at  you,  but  you  gave  me  no  oppor- 
tunity until  the  music  began." 

"Oh,  Clare,  what  did  you  promise  me?"  asked 
Christine,  sorrowfully.  "You  said  that  you'd  look 
out  for  yourself,  and  I  was  so  excited  over  the  ora- 
tion that  I  did  n't  stop  to  ask  how  you  'd  do  it." 

"  Never  mind,  let 's  not  talk  about  it,"  said  Clare, 
who  was  visibly  embarrassed ;  and  in  an  undertone 
she  added,  "Did  you  see  how  happy  Ardis  looked?" 

But  she  could  not  help  remembering  the  moment 
of  weakness  that  had  come  to  her  while  she  stood 
waiting,     a   solitary  figure    in    the    reading    room, 
and  saw   her  class,  the  class  of  Ninety-five,    come 
over  the  campus  without  her !     "  But   I  suppose  it 
was   silly,"    she   had   thought,  wiping   away  a  few 
furtive    tears,    "to   hope   when    I    came   here    thatt 
somebody  would  love  me  best  —  best  of  all,  as  those! 
two  have  loved  each  other  from  the  first." 

Some  one  called  her  away  just  then,  and  Christine 
told  her  father  what  Clare  had  done. 

"H'm!  —  must  have  good  blood  in  her,"  he  said 
briefly.  "  Who  's  her  father  ?  " 

"  Her  father  was  Captain  Stanley  Deland,  of  the 
First  Maine  Cavalry,  during  the  war;  but  he  died 
before  Clare  was  born." 

"  Seems  to  me  I  remember  the  name.  They  were 
all  regular  devils  for  courage, — the  First  Maine; 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

so  the  girl  has  a  right  to  a  backbone  of  her  own. 
There  must  be  a  lot  of  good,  hot,  fighting  blood 
distributed  around  amongst  these  girls.  They  ought 
to  have  inherited  considerable  grit  from  the  glory 
of  the  old  flag." 

"They  have,"  said  Christine,  proudly;  "for  there 
are  more  ways  than  one  here  of  showing  courage ! " 

"  Are  you  acquainted  with  Dr.  Kendrick  Burton 
of  the  Biological  Department?"  asked  the  Senator, 
unexpectedly.  "Professor  Walcott,  of  the  Smith- 
sonian, wished  to  be  remembered  to  him  if  we  met, 
so  perhaps  you  would  be  kind  enough  to  introduce 
me,  my  dear." 

It  was  obvious  that  the  Senator  had  his  eye  fixed 
upon  the  venerable  Geology  Professor,  who  sat  sun- 
ning himself  upon  the  steps,  and  Christine  found  no 
little  difficulty  in  steering  his  course  away  from 
this  impressive  personage  to  a  corner  of  the  Science 
Building,  where  an  enthusiastic  and  unassuming 
young  man  was  engaged  in  oiling  his  bicycle. 

Parents  and  other  attachments  were  being  towed 
around  in  every  direction  by  the  white-gowned 
graduates,  who  seemed  to  be  alarmingly  uncon- 
scious of  the  heat,  and  routed  them  out  of  all  the 
corners  in  which  they  sought  refuge. 

The  Symposium,  which  always  had  its  reunion 
after  the  Ivy  Exercises,  now  struck  up  a  song  of 
praise  to  COg,  set  to  the  euphonious  time  of 
"Monkey,  Monkey,"  and  rendered  in  at  least  seven 
different  keys.  There  was  a  general  rush  to  the 
windows  of  Lincoln  Hall,  partly  to  discover  what 
the  disturbance  was  about,  and  mostly  to  work  upon 
the  feelings  of  friends  inside,  who  were  eating  sand- 

414 


"GLORIOUS   CLASS   OF   NINETY-FIVE!" 

wiches  and  knew  how  to  throw  straight.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Hastings  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wyman  were  being 
escorted  triumphantly  up  the  steps  by  their  respec- 
tive daughters,  who  were  members  of  the  Symposium, 
and  Kathleen  Carey  was  explaining  to  her  father 
that  nobody  of  any  importance  ever  belonged  to  the 
Scientific  Societies. 

"  But  how  if  you  'd  happened  to  belong  to  them 
yourself?"  asked  Mr.  Carey,  with  a  repetition  of 
the  same  humorous  twinkle  that  Kathleen's  friends 
knew  so  well;  and  Kathleen  responded,  with  her 
usual  ambiguity,  "  It 's  a  very  narrow-minded  man 
that  can't  spell  a  word  but  one  way ! " 

Mr.  Carey  was  the  kind  of  man  who  always  carries 
a  pound  of  Huyler's  in  each  pocket,  and  is  generally 
good  for  a  long  day's  outing  in  a  drag,  with  plenty 
of  lunch  and  three  tin  horns.  But  the  most  popular 
of  the  fathers  was  Dr.  Burritt,  whose  tales  of  college 
sprees  long  past  and  of  college  love  still  present 
delighted  the  hearts  of  the  girls.  His  stories  ranged 
from  the  man  who  dropped  a  hot  fifty-cent  piece  out 
to  the  leader  of  an  early-morning  band,  to  the  little 
girl  whose  brother  was  shot  in  the  war,  and  whom 
he  found  and  comforted  and  afterwards  married,  as 
any  one  who  looked  at  Mrs.  Burritt  might  know. 
And  then  there  were  stories  of  when  Ruth  was  a 
child,  which  pleased  her  friends  immensely,  because 
Ruth  was  so  very  dignified  now ;  and  displeased  Ruth 
herself  so  seriously  that  she  would  go  out  and  take  a 
walk  with  Mr.  Packard,  who  was  never  very  far  off. 
And  after  the  Glee  Club  Concert  in  the  evening,  the 
girls  took  Dr.  Burritt  into  the  Hillard  House  parlor, 
and  made  him  tell  all  the  stories  over  again. 

4'5 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

But  the  evening  was  not  all  spent  in  story-telling, 
for  when  the  time  came  for  the  Glee  Club  to 
assemble  once  more,  and  wander  about  the  campus 
for  one  last  sing  under  the  shadowy  elms,  every  one 
who  was  not  too  tired  walked  around  after  them,  and 
listened  and  applauded  by  turns.  And  the  people 
who  were  there  never  forgot  the  sound  of  the 
"Kerry  Dance,"  as  it  floated  back  through  the  scent 
of  roses  and  over  the  softness  of  lawns;  and  the 
notes  of  Hawley's  "  Margarethe  "  were  still  singing 
in  Christine's  head,  as  she  turned  back  from  the 
separating  Glee  Club  members  to  find  their  leader, 
who  needed  her  now.  Clare  was  trying  very  hard 
not  to  care  too  much,  but  she  drew  a  quick  breath 
when  Christine  took  her  hand. 

"Isn't  it  queer,"  she  said,  "how  love  goes  down? 
The  more  trouble  anything  like  this  makes  you,  the 
more  you  love  it,  and  can't  get  along  without  it  at 
all.  But  I  told  them  all  about  it  at  rehearsal  this 
morning, — how  much  they'd  been  to  me;  and  I 
spoke  to  them  about  the  Christmas  concert,  and 
they  said  that  they  'd  always  give  it.  That  was  what 
made  me  feel  that  it  was  none  of  it  wasted,  —  the 
caring,  you  know,  the  caring  so  much  too  hard ! 
We  have  been  very  near,  —  this  Glee  Club.  We 
have  known  — "  and  she  went  on  thinking  to  her- 
self of  how,  though  the  wide  world  lay  between 
them,  they  would  be  "her  girls"  still;  and  of 
how,  as  long  as  she  lived,  her  heart  would  gain 
courage,  and  her  soul  strength,  when  she  thought 
of  them ! 

"Christine,"  said  a  man's  voice  behind  them, 
"father's  looking  for  you  on  the  Storey  House 

416 


"GLORIOUS  CLASS   OF   NINETY-FIVE!" 

steps,  and  perhaps  you  'd  better  go  to  him.  The 
Mater  was  tired,  and  I  've  just  taken  her  home.  I  '11 
look  after  Miss  Deland  for  a  while,  if  she  does  n't 
object." 

It  was  Christine's  brother  Henry,  who  had  been 
making  a  name  for  himself  in  the  far  West,  but 
who  adored  his  sister,  as  the  right  kind  of  brothers 
should  do,  and  had  come  on  to  her  graduation.  He 
was  five  or  six  years  older  than  Christine,  grave,  and 
almost  too  quiet  for  his  age,  —  "  in  dead  earnest,"  as 
people  said,  and  wasting  very  little  time  upon  con- 
ventionalities. He  was  not  artistic,  like  Stephen, 
or  original,  like  Christine,  but  he  gave  the  impres- 
sion of  having  great  strength  in  reserve;  and  he 
was  absolutely  simple,  too,  as  the  strongest  men  are 
very  likely  to  be.  He  told  Clare  about  some  of  the 
fellows  at  Harvard  whom  he  had  "  loved "  and  had 
not  seen  for  years,  and  of  how  the  friendships  here 
at  Harland  made  him  want  to  be  with  them  again. 
And  he  said  that  there  was  a  lot  of  splendid  mate- 
rial for  everything  in  the  West,  if  one  had  time  to 
"study  it  out."  He  liked  to  be  very  near  to  all 
kinds  of  men,  and  had  spent  several  weeks  as  a  com- 
mon laborer  in  one  of  the  mining  towns.  And  he 
understood  how  Clare  felt  about  the  Glee  Club:  it 
was  worth  while  to  "harden  your  hands,"  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing,  to  turn  out  a  good  piece  of  work 
like  that.  "And  whenever  you  get  near  to  the 
primitive,  it  hurts,  anyway,"  he  said. 

And  there  was  something   about   the   bigness  of 

him  that  took  Clare  out  of  herself  and  out  of  the 

college  world,  and  showed  her  that  in  the  hollow  of 

her  hand  she  held  the  heart  and  pith  of  what  she 

27  417 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

had  been  striving  for.     "  Enough  that  He  heard  it 
once.     We  shall  hear  it  by  and  by." 

And  long  after  Henry  had  gone  back  to  his  min- 
ing-camp, where  the  primitive  thrives  and  grows,  he 
remembered  a  slender,  brown -eyed  girl  with  lilies-of- 
the-valley  in  her  hair,  and  worked  harder  than  ever. 

But  while  he  and  Clare  were  wandering  happily 
around  over  splashes  of  lemonade  in  the  grass,  and 
under  dancing  rows  of  Japanese  lanterns  overhead, 
Christine  was  searching  in  vain  for  her  father  on  the 
Storey  House  steps.  He  'had  received  word  from 
his  wife  that  she  was  feeling  very  unwell,  and  had 
hurried  off  without  giving  another  thought  to  Chris- 
tine. She  looked  for  him  in  every  possible  place  on 
the  campus,  and  then  walked  up  to  Mrs.  Brett's, 
the  boarding-house  on  Elm  Street,  where  she  had 
engaged  rooms  for  her  family.  Mrs.  Brett  herself 
came  to  the  door  and  said,  "  Well,  I  was  just  going 
clown  to  Miss  Taylor's  after  you,  Miss  Arnold,  for 
your  mother  's  been  ill,  and  I  thought  you  ought  to 
know.  The  doctor  's  upstairs  now.  But  there,  dear, 
don't  look  so  white.  It  was  only  a  fainting  spell, 
and  she  's  out  of  it  already." 

Christine  flew  up  the  stairs  and  into  her  mother's 
room,  where  she  found  Mrs.  Arnold  lying  on  the 
sofa,  with  her  husband  and  Dr.  Comstock  beside 
her.  "Don't  tell  Christine,"  she  was  saying  as  the 
door  opened;  but  Christine  heard  it,  and  was 
terrified. 

"Oh,  mamma,  what  is  it?"  she  asked,  kneeling 
down  beside  her.  "  Somebody  tell  me  what  has 
happened!  Papa,  what  is  the  matter?  Dr.  Com- 
stock, tell  me ! " 

418 


"GLORIOUS   CLASS   OF   NINETY-FIVE!" 

The  doctor  glanced  uneasily  from  Christine  to 
Mrs.  Arnold  and  said :  "  There  is  no  cause  for  alarm, 
I  think;  but  your  mother's  general  condition  is  not 
quite  as  it  should  be.  The  heart  action  is  not  par- 
ticularly good  just  at  present. " 

"Oh,  doctor!  how  can  you?"  said  Mrs.  Arnold, 
weakly.  "To-morrow  is  her  Commencement  Day." 

"  Papa,  has  she  had  these  attacks  before  ?  "  asked 
Christine,  in  a  low  voice.  But  Senator  Arnold  was 
looking  at  his  wife  and  did  not  seem  to  hear  her. 

"  Papa,  has  she  had  these  attacks  before,  and  you 
dared  not  to  tell  me  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  for  me  to  see  you 
a  minute  outside,  Miss  Arnold,"  said  the  doctor. 
"You're  plucky,  I  know,  and  will  be  willing  to 
leave  your  mother  alone  for  a  while,  if  you  know 
that  it  is  best.  The  least  excitement,"  he  added,  as 
Christine  followed  him  into  the  hall,  "would  not  be 
good  for  her  now." 

"I  ought  never  to  have  come  to  college,"  she 
said  brokenly ;  "  I  ought  never  —  " 

"Nonsense,"  interrupted  the  doctor,  cheerfully; 
"the  mischief  is  not  of  such  long  standing  as  that. 
In  fact,  it 's  only  just  begun.  Mrs.  Arnold  has  been 
overdoing,  systematically,  for  some  time,  and  this 
has  weakened  her  general  condition  enough  to  bring 
on  a  slight  attack  of  heart  failure.  But  with  proper 
care  and  rest  it  will  all  pass  away;  and  now  that 
you  're  through  college,  there  is  practically  nothing 
to  fear.  The  care  that  only  a  daughter  can  give 
will  fix  her  up  in  no  time.  Dear  me,"  added  the 
young  doctor,  gazing  pensively  out  into  the  dark- 
ness, "I  wish  /  had  a  daughter." 

419 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

Christine  lay  awake  for  a  long  time  that  night, 
and  had  not  the  slightest  doubt  about  the  sacrifice 
that  she  was  going  to  make.  There  was  only  one 
thing  to  do,  of  course,  and  she  would  do  it.  But 
when  morning  came,  and  her  mother  looked  and 
seemed  as  well  as  ever,  she  wondered  if  it  would  be 
necessary,  after  all. 

"I  am  simply  a  horrible,  inexcusable  black-leg," 
she  thought,  "and  such  a  thing  as  a  conscience  is 
an  anachronism  in  my  nature.  Why  it 's  there  I 
don't  know,  for  it 's  made  me  feel  like  a  Seidlitz 
powder  ever  since  I  was  born." 

And  then  she  thought  of  what  it  would  have  been 
to  go  to  Europe  with  Mrs.  Deland  and  Clare,  —  both 
of  them  so  simple  and  Bohemian  in  their  tastes,  so 
enthusiastic  over  everything,  and  appreciative  of  the 
humorous  side  of  life.  She  had  been  to  England 
once  with  her  father  and  mother,  when  she  was  ten 
years  old,  and  beautiful  memories  that  had  never 
forsaken  her  made  her  think  of  how  much  more 
beautiful  it  would  be  to  go  now,  when  she  was  old 
enough  to  understand.  For  not  to  go  again  after 
one  has  been  once  is  almost  worse  than  never  going 
at  all,  as  in  the  latter  case  one  does  not  know  what 
has  been  missed. 

"But  I've  already  decided  what  I  am  going  to 
do,"  she  thought,  "so  what's  the  use  of  trying  to 
gnaw  my  own  rope  ? " 

She  told  Senator  Arnold  her  decision,  and  felt 
strangely  comforted  when  he  replied  quickly,  "That 
is  better  than  the  Ivy  Oration,  my  dear ! " 

Of  course  it  was  necessary  to  tell  Mrs.  Deland 
and  Clare,  and  send  a  sad  little  telegram  to  the 

420 


"GLORIOUS   CLASS   OF  NINETY-FIVE!" 

White  Star  Line;  but  somehow  the  disappointment 
did  not  seem  so  hard  to  bear  when  she  looked  at  her 
mother's  face. 

"I  can't  bear  to  think  of  the  child's  making  that 
sacrifice  for  me,"  said  Mrs.  Arnold,  holding  a  small 
moist  handkerchief  in  one  hand.  "She  says  it's 
because  she  wants  to  stay  at  home  and  study  Wash- 
ington society,  but  I  know  better." 

"She's  done  no  more  than  what's  decent,"  said 
the  Senator,  briefly;  "but  as  it  happens,  she  isn't 
likely  to  lose  by  it.  If  Congress  adjourns  early 
next  year,  we'll  all  go  over,  and  join  Stephen  in 
Paris." 

"Oh,  can't  I  tell  her?"  asked  Mrs.  Arnold, 
delighted. 

"No,"  replied  the  Senator,  with  his  quiet  humor; 
"the  Lord  does  not  generally  reward  his  chosen 
quite  so  soon.  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  a  girl  mak- 
ing the  first  part  of  a  sacrifice  and  expecting  her 
parents  to  provide  the  other  half  later  on.  Let  her 
feel  the  full  extent  of  it  first,  and  then  —  well, 
we  '11  see." 

The  Commencement  exercises  are  not  so  pictur- 
esque as  those  of  Ivy  Day  and  Baccalaureate,  but 
they  are  much  more  important,  because  they  involve 
trustees  and  a  diploma.  To  speak  accurately,  no 
student  receives  her  own,  —  that  must  be  hunted  up 
afterwards,  and  exchanged  for  the  one  she  holds,  — 
but  by  the  time  that  the  exercises  are  over,  she 
thankfully  feels  that  any  one's  diploma  will  do. 
The  guests  go  early,  and  are  forcibly  made  to 
demonstrate  the  theory  that  two  bodies  must  and 
shall  occupy  the  same  space  at  the  same  time.  The 

421 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

alumnae  file  gravely  in,  headed  by  the  Junior  ushers 
with  their  ribboned  wands;  and  last  of  all,  come  the 
Seniors,  led  like  a  chain  of  white  flowers  by  the 
Juniors  in  front ;  and  having  taken  the  front  placess 
which  are  saved  for  them,  they  rise  in  a  body  when 
the  President  appears,  remaining  standing  until  he 
reaches  his  seat  on  the  platform. 

The  rest  of  the  service  blends  in  a  memory  of 
music,  of  prayer,  and  of  helpful  suggestions  by  the 
Commencement  Orator,  who  is  one  of  the  well-known 
and  gifted  people  often  introduced  by  the  Faculty 
as  a  stimulus  to  the  girls.  But  the  Seniors  have 
the  privilege  of  deciding  who  he  shall  be,  and  this 
year  he  was  a  man  who  had  a  daughter  in  the 
graduating  class;  so  that  his  own  little  girl,  in  a 
white  dress,  and  with  a  bunch  of  pink  roses  across 
her  lap,  was  looking  up  at  him  timidly  and  eagerly, 
to  hear  what  he  would  say.  And  immediately  all 
the  young  faces  before  him,  and  all  the  young  souls 
that  he  must  help,  resolved  into  one,  and  he  spoke 
to  the  Seniors  as  he  would  have  spoken  to  her  alone, 
if  it  had  been  for  the  last  and  only  time.  And 
then  the  choir  sang  Marchetti's  beautiful  "Ave 
Maria;"  the  diplomas  were  distributed,  and  the 
service  ended  with  the  hymn,  "  Hark,  hark,  my 
soul,"  which  will  always  be  associated  in  the  minds 
of  those  who  remember,  with  "the  love  that  lies 
beyond  the  word  '  Farewell. ' ' 

The  President's  speech,  after  the  exercises,  re- 
lieved the  tension  of  the  atmosphere,  and  pointed 
out  to  opulent  members  of  the  audience  that  there 
are  noble  and  disinterested  ways  of  expressing  one's 
feelings.  He  gave  a  few  pathetic  statistics  relating 

422 


"GLORIOUS   CLASS   OF   NINETY-FIVE!" 

to  the  financial  condition  of  the  college,  and  finally 
said  that  the  class  of  Ninety-five  had  voted  to  give 
up  its  class  supper,  in  order  that  the  money  might  be 
added  to  the  sum  for  the  new  Chemistry  Building. 

The  applause  was  long  and  enthusiastic,  for  even 
the  under-class  girls  did  not  know  of  this  decision; 
and  Ruth  Burritt,  who  evolved  the  idea,  was  poked 
from  in  front,  and  prodded  from  behind,  by  Seniors 
wishing  to  express  their  admiration.  And  then  the 
President  went  on  to  say  that,  "  in  view  of  the  sacri- 
fice made  by  the  Seniors,  a  gentleman,  who  shall 
be  nameless,  has  given  the  sum  of  five  thousand 
dollars  to  this  glorious  class  of  Ninety-five,  to  be 
used  and  appropriated  by  them  in  any  manner  that 
they  may  think  fit ;  and  we  ourselves  wish  to  say  • —  " 

But  the  applause  by  this  time  had  become  so 
frantic  that  he  was  obliged  to  stop,  and  the  Seniors, 
whose  feelings  could  no  longer  be  suppressed,  sprang 
to  their  feet  and  sang  "Fair  Harland,"  singing  it  in 
tune,  too,  which  was  doing  very  well  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. And  the  effect  was  so  spontaneous 
that  no  one  in  the  audience  dreamed  of  what  had 
taken  place  in  the  Philosophy  room  just  before  the 
Seniors  started  for  the  chapel,  when  a  younger 
member  of  the  Faculty  had  rushed  in,  saying: 
"After  the  exercises,  the  President  is  going  to 
make  an  announcement,  and  when  he  has  made  it, 
you  get  up  and  sing."  So  this  was  why  Dr.  Page 
gave  the  pitch  on  the  organ  at  just  the  right  time, 
and  everything  ended  as  happily  and  beautifully  as 
it  did.  And  after  it  was  over,  the  Seniors  and 
alumnae  lost  no  time  in  going  to  collation  at  the 
Wyndham,  where  the  "hungry  man  was  fed." 

423 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"'Go  frowning  forth,  but  come  thou  smiling 
back,'  "  said  Kathleen  to  a  stuffed  egg  as  it  rolled 
under  the  table.  "  Oh,  girls,  how  do  you  reckon 
that  egg  feels,  when  it  thinks  about  what  it  might 
have  done  if  it  had  grown  up  a  rooster?" 

"It  was  better  that  it  should  be  boiled  young," 
said  Grace,  solemnly;  "an  egg  is  so  innocent." 

"Yes,  it's  innocent;  but  I'd  rather  have  a  good 
lusty  beefsteak  that  has  suffered  and  understands," 
said  Professor  Burton,  gazing  mournfully  at  his  cup 
of  coffee  and  one  thin  sandwich. 

"I'll  get  you  some  salad,"  laughed  one  of  the 
ushers,  going  to  the  nearest  table. 

"Yes,  do,"  he  murmured  gratefully.  "Remem- 
ber that  it 's  my  fourth  graduation." 

But  as  Christine  came  in  at  that  minute,  the  new 
instalment  of  refreshments  was  transferred  to  a 
cool  place  by  a  window,  which  the  Professor  picked 
out  for  her.  And  then  the  long-suffering  Junior 
went  back  after  more. 

"  I  'm  glad  that  you  're  not  going  abroad  this 
year,"  said  Professor  Burton,  calmly. 

"I'm  not,"  said  Christine,  wishing  that  he  would 
not  talk  about  it. 

"Because,"  he  continued,  "I  generally  go  to 
Washington  once  or  twice  every  winter  to  attend 
Scientific  meetings,  and  I  have  a  married  cousin 
there  too,  who  is  always  pining  for  my  society,  Mrs. 
Reed-Slocum,  —  do  you  know  her?  " 

"  Know  her  ?  Why,  of  course  I  do,  or  rather  my 
mother  does.  I  've  never  been  into  society  there  at 
all." 

"Are  you  going  to  be  introduced  next  winter?" 
424 


"GLORIOUS   CLASS   OF   NINETY-FIVE!" 

"Yes;  won't  it  be  horrible?" 

"  No,  it  '11  do  you  good.  But  how  about  my  coming 
to  see  you  if  I  get  to  Washington  ?  I  could  take  you 
to  some  very  interesting  lectures  at  the  Smithsonian. " 

"Would  you  deliver  them?"  asked  Christine, 
unkindly. 

"Well,  no.  But  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to 
patronize  a  first-rate  dance.  My  cousin  has  asked 
me  to  several,  at  different  times,  but  I  always  wrote 
and  told  her  that  I  wasn't  out." 

"  What  new  theories  are  you  people  discussing  so 
seriously?  "  asked  the  Junior,  coming  to  bring  them 
some  cool  lemonade. 

"Evolution,  from  the  monkey's  point  of  view," 
answered  the  Professor.  "We  were  wondering  if 
he  thinks  it's  an  improvement." 

"Of  course  I  sha'n't  be  able  to  do  any  work, 
that 's  the  main  objection,"  said  Christine.  "  Politi- 
cal society  is  delightful,  but  complicated.  If  you  'd 
ever  tried  to  seat  people  at  a  Washington  dinner, 
you  'd  know  that  it  is  often  a  matter  of  life  and 
death.  Sorting  over  nobility  —  and  we  often  have 
that  to  do,  too  — •  could  n't  be  worse." 

"  So  you  really  like  a  quiet  life  so  much  the  best? 
Don't  you  think  that  you  'd  get  tired  of  it  in  the 
long  run  ?  " 

"No;  I  like  to  travel  quietly,  or  stay  at  home 
quietly  and  work,  seeing  a  great  deal  of  the  few 
people  that  I  care  for.  It  doesn't  seem  much  to 
ask,  does  it?  But  I  suppose  asking  for  what  we 
can't  have  is  demanding  the  most  of  all." 

"A  great  many  people  would  like  nothing  better 
than  to  change  places  with  you." 

425 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Yes,  it  was  all  a  mistake  some  way,  —  my  loving 
to  write  most  of  the  time,  instead  of  to  entertain  and 
be  decently  hilarious,  like  other  girls.  But  I  mean 
to  be  as  good  as  I  can  this  next  year  —  for  a  change, 
and  see  how  it  feels." 

"And  I  may  come  to  witness  the  transforma- 
tion?" 

"  Did  n't  papa  ask  you  to  call  ? " 

"  Yes ;  but  I  wanted  you  to  ask  me  too,  because, 
you  see,  we  were  at  college  together." 

Christine  laughed.  "Well,  you  know  that  I  shall 
be  glad  to  see  you,  for  I  strongly  suspect  that  with 
me  it  '11  be  a  case  of  being  good  and  being  happy, 
but  I  won't  have  a  good  time." 

"Let  me  tell  you  something,"  said  Professor 
Burton,  seriously.  "  You  are  going  to  have  the  best 
time  that  you  ever  had  in  your  life."  And  it  turned 
out  afterwards  that  she  did,  although  not  for  reasons 
that  they  either  of  them  then  suspected. 

When  collation  was  over,  Ninety-five  had  its  last 
class  meeting,  and  voted  to  give  the  five  thousand 
dollars  to  the  Chemistry  Building.  It  also  deter- 
mined to  work  as  hard  as  it  could  to  get  more 
money;  and  stopped  on  its  way  out  to  annihilate  a 
new-made  Sophomore,  who  was  proclaiming  her 
advancement  in  triumphant  tones. 

"You're  no  Sophomore  until  we  get  out  of  this 
college,  do  you  understand  ? "  inquired  Kathleen, 
ferociously.  And  the  girl  speedily  melted  from 
view. 

"Didn't  you  pass,  either?"  asked  a  tearful  and 
disappointed  applicant  of  Grace  Reade,  whom  she 
met  on  the  stairs.  Grace  put  her  hand  to  her  face, 

426 


"GLORIOUS   CLASS   OF  NINETY-FIVE!" 

and  discovered  to  her  surprise  that  she  had  been 
crying. 

"  I  did  n't  know  —  "  she  began,  and,  taking  the 
girl's  hand,  she  said,  "Go  home  and  try  again, 
and  don't  give  up  trying  until  you  get  here,  for 
there's  nothing  like  it  in  this  world, — nothing!" 

And  then  she  fled  away  down  the  hall. 


427 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

THE  CROSSING  ENDED 

ARDIS  HATHAWAY  had  left  collation  early  and 
gone  to  Miss  Carlisle's  room  to  get  a  last  relay  of 
Bain  papers  and  daily  themes  which  had  not  been 
returned.  She  had  intended  to  say  "good-bye" 
very  quickly,  and  get  away  as  soon  as  possible  after- 
wards, but  this  was  not  at  all  what  happened.  Miss 
Carlisle,  who  was  working  at  her  desk,  looked  up 
when  she  came  in,  looked  at  her  again,  and  then, 
seating  herself  in  a  rocking-chair,  drew  the  girl 
down  into  her  arms. 

"  My  clear,"  she  said,  stroking  her  hair,  "don't  you 
know  that  somebody  says  even  God  is  willing  to 
give  one-and-twenty  another  chance  ? " 

"But  I  was  twenty -two  in  November,"  said  Ardis, 
trying  to  smile,  and  then  she  began  to  cry  instead. 

Miss  Carlisle  rocked  her  gently  for  several  minutes 
without  speaking,  and  Ardis  thought,  — 

"  Perhaps  my  own  mother  would  have  held  me  like 
this  if  she  had  been  —  different.  How  strange  it  is 
that  Miss  Carlisle  and  I  should  be  together  at  all  — 
she  a  mother  without  a  child,  and  I  a  child  without 
a  mother  ? " 

"I  wish  I  had  a  daughter  of  my  own,"  said  the 
professor,  suddenly,  as  if  she  had  been  reading 
her  thoughts. 

428 


THE   CROSSING   ENDED 

"  Suppose  —  that  you  did  have,"  said  Ardis,  falter- 
ingly,  "  and  that,  for  any  reason  —  she  had  lost  her 
—  self-respect.  Could  you  say  anything  to  her  that 
would  make  her  feel  as  if  she  still  wanted  to  live? " 

"I  should  say  to  her:  'Self-respect  is  the  recog- 
nition of  God  in  ourselves,  and  is  something  that 
can  never  be  quite  lost.  It  may  seem  to  be  gone, 
at  times,  but  it  will  return  again  in  our  great  need, 
and  show  us  that  we  are  still  a  part  of  that  God  who 
understands.'  Ardis,  there  have  been  times  in  my 
life  when  if  I  had  not  had  God  I  should  have  had 
nothing!" 

"I  believe  in  the  God  that  made  the  world,"  said 
Ardis.  "But  isn't  the  world,  after  all,  a  question- 
able blessing?" 

"That  depends  entirely  upon  ourselves.  God 
made  the  world  of  flowers  and  hills,  but  we  must 
shape  the  individual  worlds  in  which  we  live  and 
build  the  blue  of  our  own  sky.  Ardis,  we  make  a 
mistake  if  we  compare  ourselves  with  the  people 
around  us,  instead  of  with  what  God  meant  us  to  be ! 
Our  capacities  for  usefulness  cannot  all  be  judged 
by  the  same  standard;  some  of  us  —  like  you,  for 
instance  —  have  better  material  to  start  with.  I 
think  that,  if  you  chose,  there  is  very  little  that  you 
could  not  do." 

"  But  I  've  been  trying  to  do  things  all  through 
my  college  course  —  and  you  see  the  result. " 

"  No  — •  pardon  me  —  you  have  n't  been  trying  to 
do  things,  but  to  make  people  think  that  you  have; 
and  you  must  admit  that  there  is  a  difference." 

Ardis  flushed.  "I  've  been  on  the  wrong  track, 
I  know,"  she  said. 

429 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"And  there  are  several  by-ways  to  this  wrong 
road  of  yours  that  have  made  the  climbing  still 
more  difficult.  Why,  for  instance,  do  you  always 
try  to  conceal  your  motives,  and  even  your  most 
irreproachable  feelings,  from  the  world  ?  Of  course 
I  'm  not  speaking  of  personal  affairs  at  all,  but  of 
good,  honest,  general  opinions." 

"I  don't  like  to  have  every  one  walk  in  and  in- 
spect my  ideas  as  if  they  were  so  many  mummies  in 
a  show-case." 

"Your  comparison  is  very  apt,  because  any  idea 
is  likely  to  become  mummified  if  never  exposed  to 
the  air;  and  yours  are  much  too  original  for  such 
seclusion.  Besides,  don't  you  know  that  the  soul 
that  no  one  can  see  into  is  the  soul  that  cannot  see 
out  of  itself,  and  that  when  you  build  a  barrier 
to  keep  others  out,  you  are  also  shutting  yourself 
in?" 

"  I  believe  in  a  certain  amount  of  diplomacy,"  said 
Ardis. 

"Diplomacy?  Nonsense!  What  does  a  girl  of 
your  age  want  of  diplomacy?  An  ordinary  amount 
of  tact  is  all  that  she  needs.  And  it  is  n't  necessary 
to  scheme  and  withhold  and  misrepresent,  with  the 
impulsive  outspoken  girls  who  have  been  your  com- 
panions. The  man  who  seemed  to  know  most 
things  told  us  to  be  true  to  ourselves,  and  then  we 
could  not  be  false  to  any  one.  And  truth  is  our 
only  means  of  defence  in  a  world  where  some 
people  will  always  be  untrue.  If  we  have  it,  we  are 
safe;  if  we  cast  it  aside,  it  may  lead,  as  you  know, 
to  serious  difficulties." 

"Oh!   Miss   Carlisle,"    said   Ardis,    "you    don't 
43° 


THE   CROSSING  ENDED 

know  what  it  has  been  to  me  to  lose  Christine !  And 
I  didn't  realize  how  much  I  cared  until  it  was  too 
late.  We  walked  together  Ivy  Day,  and  she  was  as 
dear  and  lovable  as  ever;  but  I  know  that  it  can 
never  be  —  the  old  days ;  they  will  not  come  again. 
And  that  wonderful  oration !  I  had  no  share  in  it, 
—  had  no  right  to  be  proud  of  it,  as  I  would  have 
been  if  she  were  my  friend. " 

She  was  clear-sighted  enough  not  to  hold  Miss 
Carlisle  responsible  for  this  loss,  although  it  was 
through  Miss  Carlisle  that  Christine  knew  what  had 
happened.  But  Ardis  felt,  in  some  mysterious  way, 
that  Miss  Carlisle  had  been  merely  the  agent  of 
that  great  force  called  Retribution,  which  we  all 
evade  at  times  and  must  meet  at  last.  And  Ardis 
knew  to-day,  as  she  felt  those  warm  arms  around 
her,  that  the  same  person  may  be  equally  the  instru- 
ment of  a  greater  force,  called  Love,  which  is  the 
greatest  of  all. 

"  You  say  that  I  do  not  know  what  it  has  been  to 
you  to  lose  Christine,"  said  the  professor,  gently. 
"  I  do  know.  I  have  seen. " 

Ardis  did  not  know  how  long  they  had  sat  there 
in  silence  when  a  knock  came,  and  Miss  Carlisle 
said :  "  It 's  a  Sophomore  who  has  an  appointment 
with  me  about  a  paper,  and  I  'm  afraid  I  must  see 
her.  But  there  is  something  more  that  I  want  to 
tell  you  before  you  go.  Christine  does  love  you  — 
she  always  will ;  and  you  can  make  her  respect  you 
if  you  choose.  An  opportunity  will  come  if  you 
look  for  it ;  but,  Ardis,  remember  always  that  it  is 
better  to  fall  in  any  one's  estimation  rather  than  in 
your  own !  Now  kiss  me,  my  dear,  and  write  to  me 


ACROSS   THE   CAMPUS 

sometimes,  if  you  feel  like  it;  for  you  know  that  — 
I  am  very  often  a  lonely  person  too." 

"I  didn't  tell  you  what  I  am  going  to  do  next 
year,"  said  Ardis,  hurriedly.  "I've  decided  to 
work  in  a  college  settlement,  —  not  from  charitable 
motives  at  all,  but  because  I  want  to  forget,  if  I 
can,  that  such  a  person  as  Ardis  Hathaway  ever 
existed.  I  shall  have  classes  of  girls  and  children 
in  music,  and  I  am  to  sing  to  them  when  they  want 
me  to,  and  help  get  up  little  concerts.  I  couldn't 
sing  to  well-dressed  people,  who  would  look  at  me 
and  think  things;  but  these  little  children  are  differ- 
ent—  they  come  up  and  take  hold  of  your  hand." 

"  Let  me  congratulate  you  most  heartily  on  your 
decision,"  said  Miss  Carlisle.  "There  is  a  tre- 
mendous field  for  work  there,  and  your  voice  was 
put  into  the  world  to  make  people  better  and  purer 
than  they  are.  I  think  it  is  the  materialization  of 
the  mark  of  God  that  was  on  you  when  you  came. " 

Ardis  put  her  arms  around  Miss  Carlisle's  neck 
for  a  minute,  saying,  "  I  shall  never  forget  —  "  But 
the  Sophomore  knocked  again,  and  the  sentence  was 
not  finished.  There  is  this  about  college,  after 
all,  that  we  never  do  forget,  no  matter  how  old  and 
tired  and  disappointed  we  may  be;  there  is  never 
a  time  when  we  cannot  feel  the  campus  grass  be- 
neath our  feet,  and  hear,  when  we  listen,  the  rustling 
of  the  ivies  against  the  college  walls. 

Ardis  walked  slowly  over  to  the  Music  Building, 
where  a  lone  violin  was  playing  the  "  Kerry  Dance. " 
One  could  almost  see  the  light  portamento  as  the 
instrument  laughed  out,  "Oh-h,  the  ring  of  the 
piper's  tune,"  and  hear,  all  too  soon,  the  drip  of 

432 


THE   CROSSING   ENDED 

rain  through  the  leaves,  in  a  deserted  glen  from 
which  the  merry  hearts  had  fled.  She  went  in 
search  of  it,  and  stopped  for  a  minute  outside  the 
organ  room  to  listen.  The  Glee  Club  had  sung  it 
like  that,  and  one  would  have  known  that  the  vio- 
linist was  the  same  person  who  had  trained  them. 

"I  thought  at  first  that  you  were  in  Number  7," 
said  Ardis,  pushing  open  the  door,  "but  I  suppose 
you  didn't  feel  quite  up  to  the  grand  orchestral 
combination  to-day." 

Clare  had  always  been  fond  of  trying  over  four- 
part  songs  by  herself,  singing  the  soprano,  making 
the  violin  sing  second,  and  pounding  out  the  two 
altos  with  both  feet  on  the  pedal  piano,  which  was 
placed  in  an  adjacent  room  for  organ  practice. 

"I've  just  been  down  to  see  you,"  said  Clare, 
stopping,  with  her  bow  slightly  raised.  "Where 
in  the  world  have  you  been  ? " 

"Play  the  'Kerry  Dance'  again,"  said  Ardis, 
going  to  the  window. 

Clare  played  it  through  once  more,  and  then  laid 
her  violin  in  the  case,  saying,  "If  we're  going  to 
Phi  Delta  Kap  reunion,  we  ought  to  be  starting 
now. " 

"You  're  too  tired,"  said  Ardis.  "  Come  down  to 
the  Marston  instead,  and  take  a  nap. " 

"  But  if  you  're  going  away  to-morrow  morning, 
this '11  be  your  last  chance  to  see  the  girls." 

"  I  'd  rather  see  you,"  said  Ardis,  simply ;  and  that 
settled  it. 

"  How  bare  the  room  looks ! "  said  Clare,  as  they 
opened  Ardis's  door.  "It  doesn't  seem  like  you 
any  more.  I  wonder  if  perhaps  the  room  thinks 
28  433 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

that  it 's  asleep,  and  that  when  it  wakes  up  again 
we'll  all  be  back  here,  just  as  we  were  before?" 

"Clare,  what's  heaven  like?"  asked  Ardis,  in 
her  own  unexpected  way. 

"Tell  me  what  it 's  like,"  said  Clare.  "You  have 
known  sometimes  when  you  were  singing;  I've 
seen  it  in  your  face." 

"What 's  your  idea  of  it,  I  mean?  " 

"I  have  always  thought  that  it  will  be  a  place 
where  I  can  have  an  organ,  and  a  baby,  and  a  grand 
piano,  and  a  rosebush  in  my  front  garden." 

"  No ;  what  one  quality  that  is  different  from  the 
world  would  be  necessary  to  make  a  heaven? " 

"I  think  it's  a  place  where  people  don't  misun- 
derstand ! " 

One  of  the  Senior  roses  stood  in  a  glass  on  the 
table,  and  Clare  went  over  to  lay  her  cheek  against 
it. 

"After  all,"  she  said,  "the  whole  of  our  question- 
ings are  answered  by  this !  If  there  had  not  been 
meant  to  be  love  in  the  world,  God  would  not  have 
put  this  here  where  I  can  reach  it  with  my  hand. " 

"Lie  down  and  go  to  sleep,  you  little  thing,"  said 
Ardis.  "I'm  going  to  sing  to  you  awhile." 

"  Oh !  really  ?  And  will  you  sing  the  '  Kerry 
Dance  '  ?  The  violin  can  never  understand  it  as  you 
do." 

Ardis  sat  down  beside  her  on  the  bed,  and  stroked 
her  hand,  and  sang,  right  merrily  at  first,  of  Eileen 
and  her  lover  in  the  glens  of  County  Kerry,  and  of 
the  piper's  tune.  Clare  watched  the  motion  of  the 
soft  fingers  over  hers,  and  noticed  the  curious  pearl 
ring  that  Ardis  had  worn  ever  since  she  came  to 

434 


THE   CROSSING   ENDED 

college.  Sometimes  we  learn  to  associate  some 
little  article  like  this  with  a  certain  person,  and  it 
is  hard,  afterwards,  to  see  a  thing  that  resembles  it 
on  any  one  else.  It  was  an  old  ring  made  of  a  black 
and  a  white  pearl  set  crosswise,  and  Clare  had  once 
said,  "It  is  like  two  sides  of  the  same  person." 

"No,"  Ardis  answered,  "it  is  like  you  and  me!  " 

Ardis  sang  on,  and  suddenly  Clare  realized  that 
some  one  had  spoken  to  her. 

"I  believe  I've  been  asleep,"  she  said  inno- 
cently, "but  I  think  I  heard  you  just  the  same. 
What  was  it  that  you  said  a  minute  ago?" 

"I  only  wanted  you  to  kiss  me,"  said  Ardis;  and 
when  Clare  had  kissed  her,  she  sang  again. 

"  Loving  voices  of  old  companions, 
C-o-ming  out  of  the  past,  once  more ; 
And  the  sound  of  the  dear  old  music, 
S-o-ft  —  and  —  sweet,  as  in  d-a-ys  of  yore." 

The  afternoon  sunshine  deepened  and  brightened 
across  the  floor,  and  then  withdrew  softly  out  of 
the  window  without  waking  the  solitary  occupant  of 
the  room.  From  outside,  on  the  campus,  came  the 
sound  of  laughter  and  the  tinkle  of  cups;  but 
through  it  all  little  Clare  slept,  and  did  not  stir 
until  the  supper-bell  rang  through  the  long  halls. 
Then  she  hurried  downstairs  to  the  dining-room, 
where  some  of  the  alumnae  and  all  of  the  Marston 
House  Seniors  were  gathering  to  fortify  themselves 
for  the  night's  festivity. 

"Where  is  Miss  Hathaway?"  she  asked  of  the 
girl  who  rang  the  bell. 

"  Miss  Hathaway  ? "  repeated  the  maid,  in  surprise. 
43S 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"Why,  she  left  on  the  four-o'clock  train,  with  all 
her  baggage  and  everything.  Didn't  you  know 
about  it,  miss  ?  " 

Clare  went  on  through  the  hall  without  seeing  it, 
and  hurried  home.  She  had  a  glimpse  of  white 
gowns  at  the  supper-table,  and  met  Christine  coming 
downstairs. 

"You'd  better  hurry  and  get  dressed,"  she  said. 
"We  must  patronize  the  pleasant  home  table  of 
Miss  Taylor  before  starting,  as  it 's  quite  impossible 
to  be  funny  on  an  empty  stomach." 

"Ardis  is  gone,"  said  Clare. 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"Ardis  is  gone;"  and  she  went  on  up  to  her 
room. 

It  was  not  until  she  began  to  dress  that  she  be- 
came conscious  of  an  unaccustomed  pressure  on  a 
finger  of  her  right  hand.  She  had  not  noticed  it 
before,  and  could  scarcely  believe  that  she  saw  what 
caused  it  now.  It  was  Ardis's  little  pearl  ring. 

The  supperless  supper  took  place  in  the  big  Gym- 
nasium, and"  P.  F. "  was  the  only  condiment  served. 
As  the  toasts  and  class  histories  had  been  arranged 
to  come  between  courses,  the  intervals  had  to  be  sup- 
plied by  general  conversation,  and,  as  Christine  had 
said,  "  it  is  hard  to  be  funny  on  an  empty  stomach. " 

Some  of  the  girls  were  inclined  to  take  a  funereal 
view  of  the  future,  while  others  jested  continually 
to  hide  their  real  feelings. 

"Well,  you  can  laugh,"  said  one  of  them,  "but 
you  wouldn't  if  you  were  going  to  take  charge  of  a 
grammar-school  next  fall,  and  teach  —  brats." 

436 


THE   CROSSING   ENDED 

"I've  got  to  be  a  home  comfort,"  said  another, 
"and  that's  more  work  than  anything." 

"  Salome  and  Freda  are  going  to  study  for  an 
A.M.,"  said  Rachel  Winter,  "and  Leonora  for  an 
M.  D.  Hurrah  for  Dr.  Kent  of  Ninety-five  !  '  " 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?  "  asked  some  one. 

"  Well,  I  think  that  I  must  be  content  to  shine 
by  reflected  glory.  My  Cornell  brother  has  received 
a  half  offer  of  a  professorship  in  the  University  of 
Chicago,  and  —  " 

"Why  don't  you  take  the  other  half?"  asked 
Kathleen. 

"  Because  I  'm  needed  at  home.  But  incidentally, 
I  'm  going  to  practise  scales  until  I  can  play  them." 

"  Every  one  knows  that  Kathleen  is  going  to  study 
with  Sargent  next  year, "  said  Mildred.  "  We  '11  come 
and  engage  the  whole  gallery  on  first  nights,  Kaddy." 

"  I  am  !  "  said  Kathleen.  "  I  am  going  in  search 
of  the  sublime  situation." 

"Take  care  that  you  don't  turn  it  into  the  ridicu- 
lous," said  Grace. 

"What  is  life?"  asked  Kathleen,  striking  an 
attitude. 

"An  obstacle  race,  Ardis  says,"  replied  Mildred. 

"  No,  —  it  is  an  Irish  stew,  in  which  some  of  us  is 
more  carrots  than  others  !  " 

"  Ruth  maintains  a  discreet  silence  about  her 
future,"  said  Elsie  Dane,  mischievously.  "I 
wonder  what  she's  going  to  do?" 

"  We  all  know  that  to  marry  the  right  man  is  the 
best  thing  that  can  happen  to  any  woman,"  said 
Faith  Bentley,  impetuously;  "so  what's  the  use  in 
being  silly  about  it  ? " 

437 


ACROSS  THE   CAMPUS 

"  Bravo,  Fay  !  "  said  Edith  Standish.  "  I  really 
believe  that  your  affairs  will  bear  looking  into." 

"If  I  'd  been  engaged,  I  wouldn't  have  dared  say 
it, "  was  the  answer. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  next  year,  Philippa?  " 
asked  Christine. 

"College  Settlement." 

"  And  you  ? "  turning  to  Amethyst  Allen. 

Amethyst  blushed,  and  replied  that  sjie  didn't 
knowj  but  the  girls  found  out  afterwards  that  he 
was  a  young  travelling  salesman,  with  a  good  salary. 

"Clare  hasn't  said  a  word,"  said  Ruth.  "I  sup- 
pose she  is  thinking  of  music  and  Berlin." 

But  Clare  was  thinking  of  a  conversation  that  she 
had  overheard  a  few  minutes  ago  outside  the  Gym- 
nasium. While  passing  a  group  of  Juniors,  one  of 
them  had  said :  "  Girls,  what  do  you  suppose  ?  May 
Churchill  has  given  up  smoking." 

"  Is  it  the  end  of  the  world  ? "  asked  another. 

"  More  probably  of  the  cigarettes.  I  can't  think 
what 's  come  over  her." 

This  was  all  that  Clare  heard,  but  it  was  enough 
to  make  her  happy ;  for  the  untamed  fire  of  her  own 
nature  had  found  much  in  sympathy  with  May,  and 
of  the  younger  Glee  Club  girls  she  had  learned  to 
love  her  little  black  sheep  the  most  of  all. 

"  Silence !  "  cried  the  toastmistress,  pounding  on 
the  floor.  "The  Sophomore  history  is  about  to 
begin."  And  Clare  wondered  if,  by  any  chance, 
she  had  been  thinking  aloud. 

Junior  history  followed  all  too  soon;  and  then 
came  the  last  one,  which  Grace  Reade  had  written 
half  an  hour  before  starting  for  the  Gymnasium. 

438 


THE   CROSSING   ENDED 

This  was  not  an  example  of  exceptional  negligence 
on  her  part,  for  it  is  the  fashion  to  write  them  at 
that  time. 

"I  don't  believe,"  she  said,  in  closing,  "in  the 
class  of  alumnae  who  think  that  they  have  a  right  to 
criticise  everything  that  goes  on  at  the  college  after 
they  are  gone.  We  are  all  familiar  with  this  kind; 
they  come  back  in  dismal  hordes  and  throng  the 
corridors  with  long  faces,  saying,  '  Oh !  it 's  all 
changed  —  it's  all  changed;  it  isn't  our  college 
any  more. ' 

"Well, — it's  in  the  nature  of  things  that  it 
should  n't  be  !  Change  and  growth  are  synonymous, 
and  our  dear  college  is  no  less  our  own  because  she 
is  rapidly  growing  from  a  child  to  a  woman.  It  is 
for  us  to  help  let  down  her  tucks,  and  encourage  her 
in  good  wholesome  expansion,  instead  of  insisting 
that  she  shall  still  conform  to  our  obsolete  regula- 
tions. And  we  must  always  remember  that  it  is  by 
us,  and  not  by  the  undergraduate,  that  the  college 
will  be  judged.  We  alumnae  are  the  end  towards 
which  this  glorious  means  has  been  tending;  the 
undergraduate  is  the  beginning,  but  we  —  we  are 
the  result.  Let  us  remember  that  we  are  a  result, 
and  that,  as  a  result  of  this  college,  our  responsibility 
is  almost  too  great  for  words.  We  can  ask  no  more 
than  to  be  worthy  of  our  President's  trust  in  us, 
when  he  said,  '  I  desire  that  Harland  College 
should  be  judged  by  its  alumnae!' 

The  stanch  little  historian  was  enthusiastically 
cheered,  and  the  rest  of  the  evening  was  spent  in 
song  and  hilarity.  Every  one,  from  the  head  of  the 
Faculty  to  Mrs.  Flannagan,  received  a  parting  three 

439 


:  ACROSS  THE  CAMPUS 

times  three,  which  could  not  be  suppressed  even 
when  the  janitor  came  in  to  turn  out  the  lights. 
For  were  they  not  members  of  the  class  of  Ninety- 
five,  and  did  they  not  know  that  it  was  the  last  time 
that  they  could  all  be  together  ?  So  they  went  on 
cheering  in  the  dark,  aided  by  the  Junior  ushers 
outside,  who  had  been  holding  forth  at  intervals 
during  the  whole  evening.  But  when  they  ran  into 
each  other  by  accident,  their  faces  were  wet. 

"One  more  cheer  for  Ninety-five,"  said  Ruth 
Burritt,  climbing  on  a  chair.  But  they  were  all  too 
hoarse  to  cheer  any  more,  and  holding  each  other's 
hands,  they  passed  out  into  the  moonlight,  where 
their  Junior  friends  were  waiting  to  wish  them 
good-bye  and  "God-speed." 

Ruth  and  Christine  and  Clare  walked  home  over 
the  shadows  of  many  leaves  on  the  sidewalk,  and 
under  the  rustlings  of  other  leaves  overhead.  The 
moon  was  riding  high  over  the  clouds,  for  it  was 
nearly  twelve  o'clock,  and  the  town  was  asleep. 
The  girls  did  not  speak  until  they  reached  the 
house,  for  every  rush  of  wind  through  the  trees,  every 
tremble  in  the  grass,  reminded  them  of  the  time 
when  the  woodbine  would  turn  red  again  on  the 
college  walls,  and  they  would  not  be  there  to  see  it ! 

"I'm  glad  that  it's  not  good-bye  for  us  yet," 
whispered  Clare,  as  they  said  good-night. 

"  For  those  who  have  known  and  loved  each  other 
at  college,"  said  Ruth,  simply,  "it  can  never  be 
good-bye !  " 

The  laughter  died  away  on  the  campus,  and  soon 
the  night  was  still.  The  last  alumnae  had  sung 
their  class  songs  under  open  windows  and  gone 

440 


THE   CROSSING  ENDED 

home.  The  weary  night-watchman  was  asleep  in 
the  Latin  room.  And  outside,  there  was  nothing 
but  the  moonlight;  moonlight  on  the  campus,  where 
the  grass  would  soon  grow  tall  and  thick,  because 
no  longer  pressed  by  eager  restless  feet ;  moonlight, 
on  a  new  little  ivy,  that  must  grow  —  God  helping 
it  —  Upward,  against  those  college  walls ;  moonlight 
on  the  dear  river,  "deepening  to  the  sea."  And 
beyond  the  river,  the  watchers  over  Harland  — 
watching  still. 


441 


University  of  California 
SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
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